The Fallen Series: Part II - Dignity Falls
by Seth's Kiss
Summary: Part 2/3: The Other War has been won by Aizen, with the Seireitei conquered and the losing side powerless and enslaved. As Ichigo, Grimmjow and Byakuya are taken away and subjected to the most demeaning of indignities, will they put aside their differences and stand as one? Or will they drift apart, losing themselves? Dark fic. AU. Rated M, with same warnings as Part 1. (ON HIATUS)
1. Part Two: Prologue

**The Fallen Series (a Bleach Fanfiction) by Seth's Kiss:**

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm _back_ (standing in a dramatic stance with _I'm Back_ by _Dope_ playing in the background). For all the followers and readers of _Part One_ , welcome! So nice to still have you along for the ride! It's going to get darker and _darker_ , people (smirks wickedly)! For all newcomers, greetings and feel free to read this part independently from the preceding one, only you may miss (like _**BIG**_ ) references and other things mentioned previously. Hence digging into this part of the fic without reading the former one isn't something that I highly recommend, but like I said, feel free. This chapter isn't the first chapter of _Part Two_ nor is it a prologue. Let's say it's a sort of interlude linking the two parts together, if that makes any sense. In addition, this interlude is somewhat safe, apart from it containing **language** (from characters that generally own a rather sharp tongue) and being fairly **dramatic** , so no need for any other warnings: those will start with the 1st chapter. On a general note, _Part Two_ **will** be longer than _Part One_ , at least double in chapters. So, without further ado, please do enjoy!

Note: _**Once more, Doll is**_ _ **not**_ _ **an O.C. She's an actual Bleach character from the series and who she is**_ _ **exactly**_ _ **will eventually be revealed in latter chapters. I will**_ _ **not**_ _ **repeat this again.**_

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 **Part Two: Dignity Falls:**

 **The Fallen: Interlude 1:** Then and Now:

 _Opening the bamboo blinds of his window wide and stretching a little, a somewhat younger version of Sojun Kuchiki sighed blithely, admiring how peaceful and how lovely the day was._

 _As his personal attendant walked in after receiving permission and began announcing the noble's schedule for the day, excitement filled the latter up heartily when Sojun realized that he had nothing important to do and the very little that was, he was quick to report to another later date, freeing himself completely before running off, quite electrified._

 _Fuelled by an energy he should not be having but not able to help it knowing what his short-lived freedom would entail, the young noble travelled within the complete family mansion, checking every corner, trying every room, not once slowing down or pausing, despite knowing that he would be bound to collapse if he accomplished too much effort. But then he thought what the heck anyway, he had to imperatively find the other_ _ **now**_ _, despite already and always knowing that he'd find the one he was searching for in one place, and one place only._

 _Passing by fellow members of his kin as he directed himself to the Kuchiki Estate's library, Sojun quietly crossed the threshold and peered in, his gentle grey eyes softening as his gaze fell upon Sosuke Aizen, seated in a far back corner and plunged nose deep down within the pages of yet another book._

 _Though the young brown-haired man learnt every lesson he was taught at the Academy, aced every exam, mastered every technique, he was always studying, researching and reaching out beyond for further, for more._

 _Advancing as silently as he had entered, the young dark-haired male made his way over the other, hoping to startle him - as he was hiding his reiatsu - and knowing he had failed when the young brown-haired male smiled broadly, though not yet looking up from his reading, as Sojun got closer, causing the latter to whisper out to him: "I thought I'd find you here."_

" _And here I am" stated Sosuke as he eventually tore his gaze from the pages to appraise the Kuchiki noble thoroughly, before returning his attention to the book in front of him._

 _Sojun beamed brightly, like a child, before hastily moving forward and plopping down next to him and, not even a minute later, scooting closer until he could rest his head upon the other's shoulder, before letting out a deep contented sigh, which led to the Sosuke to chuckle gently, rather amused: "So little to make you happy."_

" _So much to make you satisfied" breathed out Sojun, eyes closed, his tone bordering the edges of a complaint "Your knowledge is beyond compare. Why explore more?"_

 _The other snorted as though it was blatantly obvious: "Because there_ _ **is**_ _more."_

" _Such a glutton" chided the young dark-haired noble playfully poking at the other's cheek, leading the young brown-haired man to smirk just as mischievously before he cast a slow, diligent cursory glance over the library, checking if no one was watching._

 _Turned out that the two were actually alone at the moment. Good._

 _After wordlessly closing the book, without a single warning, Sosuke tackled the other to the bench they were seated upon before towering over him and confining the noble's wrists in his hands, whereas they stared deep into each other's eyes. It was gentle grey fully engulfed by intense brown._

 _Biting his lower lip with half-lidded eyes, Sojun tried to lean forward to touch the other's lips, only Sosuke pulled away a little, intent on making a point before them going any further: "I would rather qualify myself as lust, not gluttony. It's not excess that I desire but gratification, despite it being so rare and near impossible to fully obtain."_

 _The young Kuchiki noble rolled his eyes and shook his head at the other, amazed on how the brown-haired always had to clarify_ _ **everything**_ _, as if everyone but himself were a bunch of hopeless and helpless idiots, before Sojun then shivered with pleasure when Sosuke whispered his next words directly next his ear: "And_ _ **that**_ _in...various domains, as you very well know."_

 _The other had always had the undeniable power to render the young dark-haired male utterly ruined and pliant when between his capable hands or when exposed to his silver tongue, and today was no exception, for the noble closed his eyes and moaned quietly, his voice heavily laced with escalating desire: "You're_ _ **bad**_ _."_

" _You know I am" smirked the cursed child smugly as he lazily aimed for Sojun's unprotected neck, lavishing it with attention between nips, licks and kisses, whilst his hands descended to blindly venture beneath the Kuchiki noble's many lower robes, caressing gently when finally his fingers managed to touch skin._

 _The young dark-haired male let out a soft, shuddering breath as he clung onto the other like one would to a lifeline, surrendering but halfway to the thriving sensations, as a small but constant and nagging fear came jutting forward, rudely interrupting: "If anyone saw us-"_

 _The noble's words of warning had the cursed child sigh loud and emphatically, though he did not pause in his actions: "You_ _ **always**_ _worry about that, when we've_ _ **never**_ _been caught."_

" _Only because I'm cautious when you're not" retorted the noble seriously, his tone of voice rather accusatory despite his smile, whilst still attempting, though in vain, not to enjoy the other's feathery touches too much otherwise neither would then able to put it to an end._

 _What the Kuchiki implied led Sosuke to halt this time and raise an eyebrow, eyes shining with an opposing mix of feigned innocence and impish mirth: "Are you saying that I'm reckless?"_

" _More like imprudent" corrected Sojun knowingly, relaxing as he became clearly aware that there truly was no one around at all, not even outside, before the noble went on elaborating his statement, mind at ease "You think so highly of yourself that you consider worry to be a waste of your time, given that you arrogantly believe that danger will never touch you."_

 _There were many things that greatly aggravated Sosuke, and amongst them were these three: facing the unknown, leaving things unfinished and being too legible, so he clenched his teeth in a rather annoyed, if not forced smile, eyebrow twitching faintly: "It's frustrating to see that you manage to discern such things about me."_

 _Batting his eyelashes playfully at the cursed child, Sojun bit his lip again, uttering softly as his knee nudged the other's hip: "I frustrate you, Sosuke?"_

 _Shaking his head at the other with smirk, Sosuke let the Kuchiki cup his cheek and draw him in closer, whilst he whispered in turn, with an odd, little choked timbre to his voice that was too subtle to really be heard: "_ _ **Very**_ _much so, Sojun."_

 _And from that instant forward, most of what Sosuke uttered were words Sojun couldn't follow._

 _Days later, Sojun thought he'd be thoughtful enough and resupply Sosuke with more reading material, finding quite a few titles he was positively certain that would enthral the other. Barging late into the Estate's library without warning, the young noble announced happily: "Good evening, Sosuke! Prepare to be thrilled, for I found new, uncharted books for y-!"_

 _"I hear that you are to be married, Sojun."_

 _The Kuchiki had been so unprepared that the books he was carrying dropped straight out of his hands, his arms going limply to his sides as all the knowledge went crashing to the floor._

 _The cursed child's eyes were dark, angry, dangerous, accusatory, promising to be utterly and unreservedly unforgiving should the noble dare give him an invalid or an inacceptable reply._

 _With his heart hammering in his chest, his mouth gone dry and his tongue turned to lead, Sojun, for a moment, couldn't utter a single word: "W-What did you say?"_

 _"Given your reaction, I think you heard perfectly well" stated the young brown-haired male, before he tilted his head slightly, eyes still as deadly "You don't seem too surprised, more like horrified."_

 _Swallowing hard, the young Kuchiki noble lowered his eyes as he stuttered nervously: "I-I...I had hoped that it was all mere hearsay in the end, so I- I never gave it much thought."_

 _The other remained utterly unforgivable: "Still, you_ _ **knew**_ _. How long have you known?"_

 _"Sosuke..."_

 _"For. How._ _ **Long**_ _."_

 _"A couple of months now" whispered Sojun softly with a depressed sigh, closing his eyes and hiding them from the other's dark glare._

 _Sosuke's eyes narrowed even further than what they already were: "And_ _ **when**_ _were you going to tell me?"_

 _Casting a desperate look in the other's direction, the distressed young dark-haired male voiced genuinely: "I-I didn't know_ _ **how**_ _to tell you. And I_ _ **certainly**_ _didn't want you finding out about it like_ _ **this**_ _."_

 _A beat of silence rang in the air, with heavy emotions of anger and anxiety swirling around them, before it was suddenly broken by Sojun's shuddering breath._

 _"Besides, I...I don't want this" he admitted quietly, as he tentatively walked over to stand in front of the other male before slowly leaning his head forward, a tremor running through his frame, fearing rejection "What I wish for is to be with you, no one else."_

 _The cursed child could tell that the other was sincere, but Sosuke just couldn't find it within him to feel sorry for him, not entirely anyway. He couldn't help but feel slightly betrayed, though he knew that it was downright ludicrous to think that, especially from someone like_ _ **him**_ _who was not supposed to make any trivial attachments. So he forcibly struggled to push himself towards a better sense of judgement, a certain rationality, a hint of understanding: "The Kuchiki, in truth, have very little say when it comes to arranged marriage. They won't let you weasel out of it, especially not to be with me of all people."_

 _Nodding, the noble muttered miserably, eyes downcast: "Because we're of the same gender."_

 _"There_ _ **is**_ _that, but that's not what I was thinking of. I'm an Aizen, remember?"_

 _"This again?" sighed the young Kuchiki, before shaking his head slightly with a faint frown "I honestly don't see the relevance."_

 _"No, I suppose you don't," whispered the young brown-haired male vaguely as his hostile stance deflated a little, before he eyed the other with a certain gentleness "You really don't want this, do you?"_

 _"No, I don't" admitted the dark-haired male unhappily, closing his eyes against the raise of emotions ready to spill down out from the corner of his eyelashes under the form of tears._

 _For a moment, it seemed to the cursed child that the one in front of him was currently in fact the saddest man alive, leading these words to exit his mouth before he could reign them back: "Run away with me, Sojun."_

 _Both were led to stare at each other with widened eyes, Sosuke for saying it and Sojun for hearing it, before the latter breathed out unevenly, unsure and uncertain, lost: "S-Sosuke?"_

 _Unable to take those words back, the cursed child gingerly set his hands upon the other's shoulders, as he spoke softly, his silver tongue smoothly at work: "If your wish is to escape this confinement they're caging you in, come with me."_

 _Two separate sentiments instantly surged through the noble: anxiety and anticipation, but not one moment was the Kuchiki in any way hesitant. Moved, Sojun, with a pretty blush to his cheeks, was more than ready to accept, to escape with the one person he had come to love: "Sosuke, I..."_

 _"I warn you, however, that I'm not exactly someone worthy of all you feel for me. Someday, you'll come to either dread or despise me. Maybe even both."_

 _The wistful, longing trance in which the young noble was caught in shattered at those words, a small frown marring his features as he gazed at the other with puzzlement: "Wha-? Sosuke, I don't understand."_

 _"It's better that you didn't" whispered Sosuke with an unreadable smile before leaning in and gently sealing his lips to Sojun's, cutting off any arising queries that were about to be uttered, making the contact last, linger, before slowly pulling away and then, without a single glance back, he wordlessly walked out on the other, leaving the latter far too dazed to hold him back._

 _And from that day onwards, no matter how hard Sojun searched, he couldn't locate Sosuke..._

 _Long months later, in an isolated room within the far end of the Kuchiki's Estate, cries of a newborn baby filled the otherwise deathly silent and dimmed room, heard to no one else but the three other occupants within it, two men and a woman._

 _One of the men, Sojun, was on the floor, gravely wounded and barely conscious, yet conscious enough to be utterly horrified by what had just transpired._

 _The woman, Sojun's wife, was also upon the ground, breaths shallow, glassy eyes half-lidded, with a large, precise but awfully bloodied incision, slashed upon her abdomen._

 _The other man, Sosuke, stood mutely, like a ghost, with his zanpaktou dripping with blood in one hand, the crying newborn child in the other._

 _Cradling the infant against his chest, he hushed it gently yet firmly, soothing its cries before laying it upon the nearby bed and warping it in the sheets, staining them with blood: not the child's...it belonged to the mother._

 _Turning towards the woman and eyeing her with utter loathing and disgust, Sosuke raised the blade high above her, aiming for her barely beating heart._

 _"_ _ **Please**_ _!_ _Please, don't do this! What the others have said, I have never believed! You and I grew up together! Please let me believe that the goodness I knew is still in you, Sosuke" pleaded Sojun breathlessly, as he reached out with a trembling, bleeding hand, desperate to get to the man, who used to, not too long ago, be his best friend and the only he had ever loved more than anyone else, trying to stop what the other was about to carry out._

 _Pausing in his assault, Sosuke stared down vacantly at the man, a single, black tear falling down as he confessed to the other in a cold, dark whisper: "I was_ _ **never**_ _good to begin with."_

 _And as the blade swung down, from that instant onwards, so far, Sosuke was true to his word._

Too shaken to scream, Sojun threw himself awake, sweating profusely and utterly breathless, before he struggled to calm himself down when he became aware enough to realize that it had actually just been nothing more than an evoking nightmare.

Quickly closing his eyes as he took in that his heart rate was off the charts and his whole frame trembled, Byakuya's father distractedly noted that even the random attacks his chronic sickness would give him on a regular basis didn't put him in such a state.

Ah, why _was_ it that former memories, notably those that were too painful to look at, came back to us when we were at our weakest point? It was like they were there lurking, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike, to bring us down further than we already were.

Though he hadn't forgotten about it, he had long refuted, rejected, that last memory, the one where Sosuke had killed his wife, a feat he had had a very hard time divulging to anyone else. He just couldn't bring himself to associate the Sosuke he grew up with and came to cherish, to the Sosuke of _that_ night. And despite all that has transpired since, he still couldn't.

How could he anyway, when the current Sosuke was a result, a product, of their own creation, born from a combined horror and hatred towards the Aizen that no one was able to explain?

"Haunted by the past, Sojun?"

Byakuya's father turned his focus over to the one who addressed him, eyeing him critically. From where he sat, like a statue looking out the window of their quarters, his father, Ginrei, seemed even further worn by age, but Sojun couldn't find it in his heart to pity him. Not after everything. Not after losing Byakuya to Sosuke, by _Ginrei's_ fault.

"Amidst other things" replied Sojun vaguely, looking away "Not everything was perfect back then, but the Sosuke I know - _knew_ \- could have been salvaged at some point, with just a little hope, a little help, a little effort."

"Which would never have happened given he _explicitly_ made it clear that he did _not_ wish to be saved," countered Byakuya's father ruthlessly, causing the other to cover his face with his hands and let out a shuddering breath.

"How did all go _so_ wrong?"

Yet again, Ginrei was unreservedly relentless: "It was wrong from the very beginning."

This time, the other Kuchiki just sighed, all while uncovering his face and looking away, tired of his father's callousness: "I no longer have the strength to blame you, father."

Even _more_ harshness came forward bitterly, only this time it was utterly intolerable: "I was not talking about what my actions may have led to."

Turning back to his father with extreme slowness, Sojun's eyes widened incredulously before, right after that, narrowing accusingly: " _May_ have?"

The ancient man's condescension never ceased to amaze him. Coming to think of it, at times Sojun had the impression that his father had greatly influenced his son in that very manner, for Byakuya was far too conceited for his own good. Pride cometh before a fall, as they say...

Completely ignoring his son's severe glare, Ginrei fully rerouted their conversation: "Though our Clan's historical records do not keep track of the existence and the past of the children of chaos, rumours from the Rukongai would fly and seldom reach our ears every once in a while. Amid them, we overheard repeatedly that the children of chaos were destined to rule, _were_ the rulers of this world when it all came to exist. And the Purebloods are there to hinder them."

"But are seemingly powerless to do so" muttered Byakuya's father pointedly as he gestured inattentively at their surroundings, a brutal reminder that they, as 'purebloods', were currently confined within the walls of their own mansion by the Aizen. Nightingales in a golden cage...

As Ginrei remained silent, Sojun sighed profoundly and ran a hand through his hair, before questioning the older Kuchiki: "Tell me, father, were did the Purebloods even come from? If there were merely errant souls and the children of chaos, from where did our ancestors stem?"

It took a moment for the other to respond, and when he did, it was just another dead end to their queries: "I do not know. That still remains one information amongst the many that have been omitted from our records."

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 _Long ago, before the Seireitei ever existed, before what was then known as the Soul Society came to be, the land of the departed was a world of desolation and discord, souls wandering aimlessly, yet appallingly. No boundaries to limit their vices, no rules to chasten their crimes._

 _Amidst their macabre and morbid madness, they were indirectly overseen, overwhelmed, by seven distinctive, but not that different, families. Along with seven Witches faithfully by their side, they were the Children of Chaos, each clan embracing a symbolic sin they incarnated to its fullest. However, it was not unheard of for a Child of Chaos to indulge in more than one sin. The more the merrier, after all._

 _The Tsukiyomi, symbolizing Greed, were firm believers that it was best to own all and leave nothing behind for anyone else, not even a little, no matter what it was. It was easy for them to draw others into this sin by playing on desires that stemmed from arrogance and ambition._

 _The Izanagi, characterizing Gluttony, a sister sin to Greed, would set firm hands on all just as well, with the exception of doing so with extravagant excess, namely when it came to food. They were capable of leading villages to either famine or cannibalism in the name of their sin._

 _The Shihoin, representing Sloth, were quite startlingly destructive as their need to impose lethargy was capable of destroying time itself. They could have an entire village fall to ruin just by enticing its people to idleness, having them crumble due to an excessive ethical apathy._

 _The Susanoo, personifying Envy, constantly evoked the desire to have what others possessed, notably if it was irresistibly appealing. Their poisonous whispers in the ears of weak-minded often led to thefts and to the practice of black magic, just to have what belonged to another._

 _The Narukami, incarnating Wrath, with their unrelenting rage that could be as infinite as a blazing inferno, were driven by violence, fired by hate and revenge, ready to harm and never forgive. They would kill with no regret, easily giving into an impulsive ire able to wage war._

 _The Aizen, embodying Lust, motivated by a strong desire to acquire pleasure, no matter its form, were considered as quite lethal given the lengths they took to obtain said gratification. They fully lorded over the art of manipulation, using it to coerce or seduce who they wished._

 _The Kuchiki, emblematizing Pride, were maybe the most daunting as they acted and drove all to accept, that they were just too perfect to be associated with anyone beneath them. They were prideful of their position and power when their evil deeds shouldn't be warranting any..._

 _Despite their propinquity, the seven clans were known to avoid one another - with the general exception of those whose sins had a certain common ground, like Lust and Envy, Greed and Wrath, Sloth and Gluttony - as much as possible, knowing that any interaction would be harder to retrieve from than to initiate. And though certain particular dissimilarities set them apart, if ever together, they were hegemony and tyranny, debauchery and degeneracy, release and captivity, many pretty lies and a very ugly truth, and they all reigned as such, for a very long time._

 _All until, awhile after the entire Shihoin Clan had inexplicably disappeared without a trace, a young Kuchiki woman, along with her husband, unpredictably, progressively fell in love with members of a Family that had diligently protected them - without asking for a thing in return - from a threat no Child of Chaos had ever faced before: forsaken souls, emanating from a parallel world, haunted by regret, that were later baptised 'Hollows'._

 _A Child of Chaos is said to be utterly incapable of love, but it isn't impossible for them to fall out of that general truth and develop strong sentiments for someone other than themselves, may it be either attraction, fondness and respect, or infatuation, jealousy and obsession._

 _Nonetheless, the two Kuchiki, intrigued by their saviours and their capacity to defeat the alien assailants, let inquisitiveness lead them whilst using the safety of their world as an excuse, observing the Family from a distance, noting on how different they were from all the senseless souls they had encountered before them._

 _The Family, quite large in number yet inconspicuous in existence - even in name - were entirely selfless, continuously putting others before themselves, and of a boundless generosity; kind and compassionate; self-disciplined and dedicated to one another; hard-working and steadfast in their convictions; brave and bold but modest; willing to forgive and show mercy. Not a single sin tainted their existence. And even if there was a few bouts of one or two on occasion here and there, they were quick to reign themselves in. They were all of pure virtue. All that which the Children of Chaos were not._

 _Amazed by how unaffected this Family was by their kind's ghastly influence, the two Kuchiki approached them, mingled with them, eventually growing quite fond of them and, with great difficulty, asked them if it were ever possible to be like they were, free of sin. Much to their upmost surprise, the Family confirmed such a farfetched reality, saying that it mostly needed to come from their own will: they could change, if they wished to, but in order to do so, they had to_ _ **really**_ _want it._

 _The Kuchiki, true to their incarnation, had always harboured a nasty habit of haughtiness and egotism, as well as being vain and arrogant in everything they did or said. However, here, in the company of the Family, after five full years of secretly yielding entirely to Humbleness, the virtue opposite of their sin, the two Kuchiki managed to cleanse themselves, ridding their hearts of most of the darkness that plagued them, no longer bound by the chaotic, malicious nature they believed they'd always be._

 _Thrilled beyond measure, the two Kuchiki, immeasurably grateful towards their yet-again saviours, hastened to share this newfound reality with their clan and the other Children of Chaos, blissfully hopeful that, after years of idle and immoral domination, they would all be better off having a change of heart and establish an improved, if not healthier, way of living._

 _Only, still a little conceited without realizing it, for pride did stay one of the hardest sins to get entirely rid of, neither of the two Kuchiki had counted on the utter and downright refusal they were faced with upon relaying their experience to the other Children of Chaos._

 _The Aizen claimed they saw no gratification in abandoning their sin. Neither did the Izanagi nor the Tsukiyomi. The Susanoo, envious of the two Kuchiki's happiness, rejected out of spite. And the Narukami were just too blindly outraged at their 'betrayal' to even voice an opinion._

 _As for the other Kuchiki, though they were only barely acceptant of the alteration the two had underwent, they outright refused relinquishing what they were._

 _Dismayed, the two Kuchiki, lost for words, withdrew to their home, rendered silent with worry and sadness, blaming themselves for being hasty and wondering where they'd go from there._

 _And things just went on from bad to worse when the Kuchiki, spurred by vicious vengeance, accompanied by the five other clans, sought out the Family responsible for the alteration, one all the Children of Chaos considered to be insulting, and, upon locating them, began slaying them, brutally and mercilessly decimating them. It was a chaotic disaster, a brutal slaughter..._

 _The Family, though disinclined to futile violence, steadfastly stood their ground, striking back valiantly, using all they knew in defence, while the Children of Chaos rained down on them with unrelenting ruthlessness. They viewed this Family as a threat to their existence, and for that, they had to be wiped out._

 _The two cleansed Kuchiki were quick to hear of the cold, cruel carnage, much to their great horror, and hurried over to attempt reasoning their clan, only their words fell upon deaf ears. Appalled and ashamed, especially after apologizing to the Family who in turn did not blame them at all, they focused on the Witch of Pride - who had always been quite fond of the two - beseeching her aid in tears, begging her to lend a hand to those who they owed their lives to._

 _Moved by their sorrow, the witch bowed to their plea, drawing all the energy she could to cast a spell, one that was terrifying in nature and that would change everything from then on._

 _Taking from her own soul, from the two cleansed Kuchiki and from whom she could from the Family of saviours, the Witch of Pride created a hand-sized eerily ornate chest, one that could fit in the two palms of one's hands, while a violet shield sheltered her from incoming attacks._

 _Touching down, the witch then neared one of the Family's members and handed over the box, telling him to open it, right after she ended her incantation._

 _With his acknowledgement, the Witch of Pride uttered her enchantment, cursing the Children of Chaos with these words: "Hear me, Children of Chaos! Your rule, your reign, comes to an end as I speak! You shall no longer be, no longer breathe this air! You shall be forever gone, forever naught! Behold here, your downfall, the_ _ **Box of Bedlam**_ _! Locked, it is no threat to you, but when unlocked, it will cause you pain beyond anything ever endured! You will suffer agony until your very last breath! Worse tenfold than the likes you could have inflicted upon all those you have ever harmed! And the box will_ _ **only**_ _close when it deems that it is done and dealt with you! No Child of Chaos, no Pureblood, no Witch, no Hollow and no Soul other than the bloodline of this carrier here beside me, can ever lay a finger upon this chest! It cannot be destroyed, for its sole purpose, is_ _ **your**_ _destruction!"_

 _Rattled by a conjuring they had no time nor power to delay, the other five Witches present let out horrifyingly inhuman wails at the words spoken by the Witch of Pride, before they each hastened to achieve something for their respective clans before the Box of Bedlam opened._

 _The Witches of Lust and Envy each swiftly opened a magical portal to the Human World and, grabbing as many of the Aizen and the Susanoo as they could respectively, they hurriedly fled, uttering quick counter spells as they left: that those in a dimension other than the one where the box had been opened, would be untouched by its magic._

 _The Witches of Greed and Gluttony both cast spells on themselves to take the brunt of what the box would throw when unleashed. Whereas the Witch of Wrath, livid, charged straight for the Witch of Pride, throwing a hex at her, one that prevented her from then on forth to ever side by a Kuchiki again nor directly help them as a witch. The curse uttered by the Witch of Wrath instantly took effect causing the Witch of Pride to fade into thin air, right before the Family's member opened the Box of Bedlam...and all hell, literally, broke loose._

 _The pain and suffering promised by the Witch of Pride came down on the Children of Chaos like a storm of scorching ashes and a blizzard of burning glass, tearing deafening screams from the Kuchiki and the Narukami - in addition to the Susanoo and the Aizen who had been left behind - as they were the first to endure the curse, for they had not been protected nor evicted._

 _The next to fall victims to the curse were the children of Greed and Gluttony, though it didn't hit them straight away as their Witches took most of the toll, allowing a few of them to also run off to the Human World, before the Witches then both turned to dust, and then the curse struck the reminder of the Izanagi and Tsukiyomi._

 _True to the Witch of Pride's words, the Box of Bedlam, once opened, did not close until it was satisfied, drawing on the tortuous torment inflicted upon the Children of Chaos, powerless to do anything but endure. Their skin rotted like infected by a viral venom and cracked like dried earth, their blood gushed through the cuts, burning and turning to black, all while their entire bodies remained petrified where they stood, before, all on its own, the box sealed itself, the lid snapping shut and leaving nothing but a bloodbath in its wake, bodies dropped to the ground._

 _Distraught by the drastic measures taken by their witch and the loss of their family, but in a faint way relieved that the senseless bloodshed was over, the two Kuchiki once again offered their sincerest apologies and condolences to the Family, who once more saw no need in blaming them, despite having been significantly reduced in number: hardly any of them remained. And after the hollow and horrible violence ended, they were quick to disappear, never to be heard of or seen again..._

 _Ridden with guilt, the two Kuchiki took it upon themselves to restore their world and make it a better place, and as they started to do so, they discover that the Shihoin, who come out of hiding after the tragic events had ensued, had encountered the family too and have also been aided by them to overcome their sin. Having learned a lot from the Family, including how to get rid of 'Hollows', the Shihoin join with the Kuchiki in their quest of betterment._

 _While constantly purging their hearts of their sin as to no longer fall for it, the two remaining two Kuchiki and the Shihoin Clan all renamed themselves, endorsing the title: 'Purebloods'. Together, they then decided on a rebirth for both their clans and their world, founding a new order with its own set of rules, determined to never let chaos ever again see the light of day._

 _However, shameful of all the evil deeds their clan committed as Children of Chaos, notably the near eradication of the Family of saviours, the two Kuchiki never kept record of their true heritage, neither theirs nor the Shihoin's, pride playing one last, but rather fatal, stunt._

 _In addition, given the Family's disappearance and the Box of Bedlam heeding only to their touch, the Purebloods cast the chest away where they believed no one would ever be able to get to it: deep down within the depths of Hell..._

 _As for the Children of Chaos, they held a recurring habit of setting foot in the Human World, harnessing their sins into power for as long as they desired, and as such, only those who were there at the time the box was opened - in addition to the few who were saved by their Witch's sacrifice - were the only ones who survived the Box's curse._

 _When the remaining Children of Chaos returned from the Human World, they were greatly outnumbered, shocked by the revelation of what had occurred during their absence. Hunted down when they too refused to reject their corresponding sins, those who could flee, found themselves forced to hide and live in secrecy within the Rukongai, or simply return where they came from. In the end, the very few extant Children of Chaos vanished into thin air, exactly like the truth on the Kuchiki's origins..._

 _And from then on, everything just moved on: past events were turned into legends and stories, before eventually becoming ancient history and then, being forgotten. Well,_ _ **mostly**_ _forgotten..._

Somewhere in the Human World, in a neighbouring town to Karakura, called Karigura **(1)** , was a manor of grandiose stature, standing sublime upon the far edge of town, surrounded by finely trimmed hedges, they themselves guarded by massive ornate railings. A truly dazzling private property that drew long stares of awe and amazement of those who passed it by and not one of them thought it to be out of place or odd to look at, apart that it seemed in need of secrecy, for some unknown reason, as it was completely cut off from the nearby habitations...

Within it, somewhere up on the highest floors, lounged Aizen idly in a dimly lit room, rather contemplative, lost in his thoughts, before his gaze indolently flickered to the side, eyeing what he had gotten from Jikoku, one that was brought to him from the farthest depths of Hell.

"The Box of Bedlam..." uttered the immortal as he traced every contour, every detail with his dark brown eyes for, though he knew of its history, he had never seen it before "Now the risks you feared have been reduced, haven't they, Manter?"

The witch, ever so faithfully by his side, her arms wrapped closely around him while she stared hard at the box, her mismatched eyes laced with disdain and a certain level of distress before she let out a quiet breath: "In a way, but it remains an ambiguity, as your downfall is not quite yet avoided, for what I see has not yet changed. That _thing_ being in your possession does however lessen the risks of it being turned against you. Particularly with the riddance of _that_ 'Family', as they were the only ones able to wield it. Not only that, but given what you have in mind for the Kuchiki's clan leader, if you succeed, I doubt anyone would be ready to lose him, his family especially."

The child of chaos smirked knowingly at that: " _No one_ would be willing to lose that dear little thing. Byakuya is, in a way, the emblematic epitome of the Seireitei, their utmost asset and greatest weakness. Therefore, I'll _completely_ rob them of him, and do so in such a way, they'll no longer be able to lay their eyes on him without a sentiment of revulsion."

"And all this simply for the sake of your precious Doll" sighed Manter resignedly, before commenting reproachfully "Your infatuation for her is rather startling, given all the lengths you would go through for her."

Aizen remained quiet for a moment before speaking up again, his tone of voice soft, solemn: "I may be a being incapable of love, Manter, free of its fragility and sickness, but I do remain bound by certain feelings, certain emotions, certain vices, all which no amount of self-control could ever fully subdue. I can repress them, but not suppress them, and this is what makes us - me - so inclined to cause chaos..."

The Witch of Lust had no argument to counter the immortal's words, so after a brief moment of silence, she inquired softly, changing subject: "You despise the Kuchiki, do you not?"

The immortal raised an eyebrow, tone now filled to the brim with resentment despite its calm: "A mild understatement. I thought the extent of my loathing of the Kuchiki was clear."

Mismatched blue eyes met dark brown ones, gazing within them searchingly: "But it does not extend to the clan leader's father, does it?"

Aizen's dark demeanour immediately lessened, relaxed: "Sojun is the only one I have always tolerated. Him and him only. Thus, I long decided to let him be. Out of leniency, mercy... Call it what you will."

"Yet here you are, utterly and relentlessly about to debase his single son, entirely willing to torture and humiliate him until he breaks, giving you the advantage you need" she pointed out with a straight face, though the jest in her tone was rather palpable "How considerate of you."

Chuckling at her sarcasm, the immortal smirked dimly: "Had I no sentiments for Sojun, _he'd_ be the one who would have to endure this to get back to that old fool. Besides, it would pain the latter further since Ginrei favours Byakuya more than he does his own son. And this ever since I had Sojun fall for me."

"Does he really, actually, love you, Aizen-sama?"

"He does" confirmed Aizen with a smile, before it tightened, his features now faintly pained "And I do believe that is one of the rare things I could ever regret."

Here, the Witch of Lust was intrigued, for though she was aware that the immortal had had a relationship with the other, she wasn't that aware of its depth: "How so?"

"Of all the Kuchiki, Sojun will definitely be the hardest to get rid of. And I honestly can't see myself doing the deed" he confessed contritely, before he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, whereas Manter watched him, feeling his stress coming off him in waves. Hence her silence, as she did not wish to add any further pressure upon him, knowing what the true issue straining Aizen was: he found himself but a couple rooms away from his obstinate obsession.

Patting the immortal's head gently with slender, spider-like fingers, the witch smiled softly: "Think of it this way, Aizen-sama. Who do you hold to your heart more: Sojun-kun or Doll-sama?"

Although a wistful smile touched his lips, the child of chaos didn't even hesitate as he uttered the name of the one person he knew he could not live without, no matter what befell: "Doll."

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 _Almond shaped eyes peered through the darkness, looking beyond the wildlife that shadowed him, his stare never leaving the golden-blonde haired girl sitting ahead in the clearing, her back turned to him, her focus riveted on the ripples she was creating on a wet patch of water with gentle taps of her fairy-like fingers._

 _He had been watching her for quite some time, her and the boy who was always by her side, too frail to protect her, too flippant to love her, and yet, just faithful enough to lay down and die for her. Speaking of the boy in question, here he came, sprinting forwards and out of breath, a smile to his lips that only broadened as the girl, upon seeing him, waved at him._

 _Tripping gauchely as he aimed to sit down next to her, he then held out his hand towards her for her to see, as he spoke breathlessly, his voice sweet and melodic, very nearly feminine: "Look. I got you an apple."_

 _Her crystal blue eyes became as round as the average-sized green fruit her friend held, near unable to believe that it was real, poking at it just to make sure: "Whoa! Those are_ _ **so**_ _rare. How'd you get it?"_

" _Yeah. About that," smiled the boy, looking half-smug, half-embarrassed as he ran a hand through his azure-coloured hair "Truth is...I kind of, sort of, maybe...stole it."_

 _Soft amber eyes locked with crystal blue, anxious that his friend might reprimand him, but he soon relaxed when she merely shook her head at him with a raised eyebrow, before she went back to admiring the apple, wondering how it tasted._

 _Realizing that she was only delaying discovering its flavour, she readied herself to cut it in two, positing her hands around it to pry it open into two equal portions: "Let's share it."_

" _No need, silly. I already ate mine on the way here," the boy said, quickly stopping her from dividing the fruit "It's all for you."_

" _Are you_ _ **sure**_ _?" she asked with insistence, eyes narrowed at him searchingly. She knew the trade some around the area set in play, as she herself had done so once or twice: pretending to have already eaten when they hadn't, just so the other wouldn't starve. A selfless sacrifice._

 _In response to her inquiry, he stared at her with a deadpan expression, hoping to convey his honesty, leading her to grin at him and bite in, savouring the juicy fruit: "Thank you, Len."_

" _Anytime!" offered the boy with a beaming smile, which was so contagious she could only return it, before they spontaneously threw each other a challenge to see who could make the largest grin._

 _It was quick to end in aching jaws and hysterics, before a sudden, subtle noise, that had sounded like the shuffling of feet in the grass, coming from behind them drew their focus, so they quickly stood to full attention, scrutinizing watchfully their surroundings._

" _What was that?" she whispered softly, eyes wide with curiosity as she took a step forward._

" _Careful, Ran," cautioned the other just as quietly, hand reaching out to halt her from taking another step "Someone's coming."_

 _That had her instantly stop in her tracks. Out here in the Rukongai, as a child or as a woman, no matter how experienced they were in fighting or fleeing, they remained utterly defenceless._ _ **Especially**_ _, if they were children._

 _The shrubs ahead rustled for a moment, prior to, after a slight pause, a little head framed with neat, short silver hair came peeking out prudently, cautiously looking around before his calm gaze met those of the two other children in front of him, causing the girl to relax._

" _Oh, it's ok. It's just a boy. Nothing to worry about."_

" _I'd worry though, Ran" contradicted her friend quietly, eyeing the other quite warily as he was totally deterred by this child's eyes which seemed so cold, so deadly "Just look at him. It's as though he's going to bite us, eat us up and then just spit out our bones."_

" _Be nice" the girl whispered back reprovingly as she elbowed her friend, before walking over towards the newcomer, stopping two steps away from him and smiling warmly "Hi."_

 _The silver-haired boy stayed silent at first, his serene and shielded expression unchanged, before he grinned pleasantly: "Hello."_

" _I'm Rangiku, and this is Len._ _What's your name?" asked the golden blonde-haired girl upon introducing herself and her friend who, compared to her, refused to come any closer._

" _My name is Gin. Gin Ichimaru. Nice to meet you both" greeted the silver-haired boy with a faint inclination of his head, his features softened to pleasantness, despite the fact that his eyes, from Len's point of view, remained frozen, still, inaccessible, dangerous._ _There was something about this boy that set the blue-haired completely on edge._

" _Cool. Wanna be friends with us?" offered Rangiku sweetly all of a sudden, as she extended her hand towards Gin, taking the latter aback and horrifying her friend due to the fact that she didn't seem to share his distrust._

 _She had decided that she liked this new boy, and this was coming from the one amidst the two to usually be very picky when it came to trusting another. It was just that she found herself inexplicably drawn to the other, sensing something within him worth of interest, and she had absolutely no way to explain it any better than that..._

 _The silver-haired boy hesitated for a moment, before he smiled a fraction wider with sincerity and the ice in his eyes finally, though very briefly, melted to reveal a profound solitude as he returned Rangiku's handshake: "I'd love to."_

Sweet fresh water to his dehydrated lips rose Gin from his coma-like state, drowning down the reviving liquid greedily, wetting his parched throat, all without yet opening his eyes, still not yet fully awake.

According to his ailing physical and mental state, the flow hydrating him came to a halt far too quickly, and it caused him to blearily attempt to open his eyes as to understand the reason. Eyelids heavy, eyesight blurry, it took quite some time for the silver-haired man to make out the one kneeling beside him and readying yet another cup of fresh water.

Everyone by now knew of the silver-haired man's current condition, as Rangiku had alerted them and Aizen had previously made it quite clear that he wanted Gin dead, so given that any more losses couldn't be afforded, attending to him became one of their priorities. Every time they could, someone amongst the enslaved would secretly come over and try to maintain him alive. Water, sustenance, a little kido, anything they could do and all they were able to obtain.

So far, the silver-haired man had been visited by Rangiku twice, Hiyori - surprisingly enough - four times, as it was easy for her to pass by unnoticed, and now it was Kisuke's turn.

"Are you alright?" the latter asked, as he carefully brushed away stray silver strands to have easy access to the man's forehead and set there a small drenched towel. The bound man's skin was burning hot, near scalding, and despite that, Gin was shivering, teeth clattering.

The sandy blonde shinigami frowned uneasily. The 3rd Division's captain wasn't getting any better, point in fact, he was getting worse at an alarmingly fast rate. He and the others had to find a way to smuggle Unohana over quickly or Gin would die for sure.

"Been through worse" whispered Gin, his voice too unused and raspy to be any louder "What of you? I heard that Aizen hasn't exactly been kind towards you either."

"You've had it harsher" waved away Kisuke, before shrugging under the other's insistent stare "He believes that I know something he should be aware of."

"And do you?"

Nearing a little in case there were any prying ears nearby, Kisuke considerably reduced the tone of his voice to utter: "Kenpachi Zaraki lives."

This led the silver-haired man to snort, not that surprised to hear that the hulking behemoth was still amidst them. He _had_ been surprised before when there were these rumours circling that the 11th Division's captain was amongst the deceased. It just didn't make sense to him that a soul as imposing and impossible as Kenpachi was to suddenly up and disappear. There were some Gin just simply couldn't imagine dead, the 11th Division's captain included.

"And _how_ do you know?" asked the 3rd Division's captain, still careful not to raise his voice.

The 12th Division's captain considered the terrible state of the bound man, before grimacing sympathetically: "I'd elucidate in detail, but I don't believe your current condition will allow you to be receptive to any explanations right now."

"You're absolutely damn right" uttered Gin caustically, making the sandy blonde chuckle.

"To make it simple, I've been contacted by Ururu-chan and Jinta-kun through an advanced telepathic invention of mine, and they informed me that we have Kenpachi, Yachiru, Hanatarou, Rin, Rikichi and Misaki back in my workshop" said Kisuke slowly, pausing to let the other absorb the information before carrying on when Gin nodded slightly "Besides, not long after that, Nemu - I mean, Neveromina - told me herself _sub rosa_. She's truly on our side apparently. Kurostuchi's final enactment, I'm guessing, though I have no clue how."

A brief silence instilled itself between the two men, both with diverging thoughts, before Gin questioned: "So, is that good news or not? For those back in Karakura?"

"Yes and no. They're all safer there than here, obviously, but they can't come to our aid when it will be time for us to move."

"Unless you add the repair of the Senkaimon to your to-do-list for the upcomin' rebellion."

Kisuke shook his head slowly, wearily, all of a sudden looking far older: "It's not that easy."

"Nothin' is" stated the silver-haired man, before he frowned in slight confusion "Tell me, how are they safe? Not that they'll be better _here_ , given our predicament, true, but still. If Aizen's Espada go patrolin' there, they'll sense them, no?"

That had the 12th Division's captain smirk cunningly: "Actually, no. After the 6th Espada, along with his Fraccion, came hunting for Ichigo-kun awhile back and Ururu-chan almost got killed, I set up a protective barrier over my workshop. It shields anyone within it, making it appear as though the house uninhabited."

"Clever" mentioned the other, before he closed his eyes and smiled softly "Funny how people change, huh?"

"Yep" agreed the sandy blonde with raised eyebrows, keeping in mind to not exert the bound man too much and yet unable to put a halt to their discussion "Grimmjow went from wanting to kill Ichigo-kun, to fully siding with him. Honestly didn't see that coming."

"Truthfully, Grimmjow never really was a bad guy" confessed Gin quietly, his delirious, unwell mind wandering away from the conversation briefly as a voice in his head jutted in ' _He just had his freewill stolen by Aizen, like so many others did, includin' me back then_ '.

Kisuke stared at the other, surprised by the comment, before shrugging once: "I have no way to argue on that. By the way, Ichimaru-san..."

"Go ahead."

"Where do you think Aizen took Ichigo-kun and Kuchiki-san?"

A dim, deep frown immediately crossed the silver-haired man's features, although his reply took a little longer to be made known: "I'm not sure."

"But you _do_ have an inkling, right?" pointed out the sandy blonde accurately, aware of the other's abrupt unease and knew it wasn't a happenstance.

"Not a good one, believe me. If I know Aizen like I think I do, he's takin' them to one of those places he owns in the Human World."

Here, Kisuke frowned faintly, both curious and confused: "And...what's wrong with that?"

"The Human World is where he harnesses the most the sin he incarnates" revealed the 3rd Division's captain, before he paused significantly and gave the other a meaningful look "Do you know _what_ he _is_ and _does_ there?"

"I don't think I _want_ to know" muttered the 12th Division's captain as he closed his eyes and ran a hand upon his tired features, not even wanting to imagine what the other was implying.

"No, you _really_ don't" stated Gin inaudibly, before his mind reminded him of someone he just couldn't forget ' _Len. Forgive me for sayin' this but...I hope Ran-chan never remembers you. Because, if she remembers you, then she'll know, recall the horrible things I've done to you_ ' _._

000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _Out on the burning golden sands garnishing the inside of Las Noches, Ichigo Kurosaki and Grimmjow_ _Jeagerjaques were caught up in a vividly heated combat, whilst Orihime and little Nel stood by and watched anxiously, hands clutched to their chests, fingers crossed._

 _Both with their fair share of wounds, the two battling each other - one harbouring his Hollow mask and Bankai form, the other wearing his_ _Resurrección_ _form - had come to a halt, aiming to catch their breaths, staring watchfully at one another as they did so, staying on high alert._

 _Tail flicking with irritation, Grimmjow shook his head and clicked his tongue, before baring his teeth at the battered teenager: "Don't look at me like that. It's always the same with you. No matter how much I beat you down, no matter what I make you go through, you always act as if you'll win, and I'm_ _ **sick**_ _of it."_

 _With that being said, the Espada charged straight for his foe, long black claws at the ready._

" _...Sick of what?" panted out the Shinigami Substitute tauntingly as he swiftly evaded the other's blows, grinning manically due to the Hollow mask devouring a scarce part of his face "Sick of a human acting as your equal?"_

 _Ichigo's smugness was quickly cut short as he wasn't able to dodge an unrelenting kick that sent him crashing into one of the surrounding red pillars that were planted in the gold sands. As the orange-haired teen struggled back to his feet, the blue-haired feline stood in the distance, expression just as distant whilst speaking with a detached yet steady tone: "That... I completely don't give a heck about that. I don't care if you're a fuckin' Human, a Shinigami or an Arrancar. All I care about, is getting rid of all those who think themselves_ _ **above**_ _me!"_

 _At that time, the teenager hadn't grasped what the blue-haired feline had meant. It was only later, way later, long after the War, and well after his coma, during his healing back at home in Karakura, with Grimmjow in his company, that he finally understood the other's words._

 _The blue-haired feline had been driven, particularly due to the Hogyoku's influence, to desire overcoming anyone who attempted to stand in his way, only because being in Aizen's hands had reduced him to nothing. Hence, not ever wanting to go through that again, the former Arrancar had wished to become stronger than anyone else out there, daring to challenge him._

Walking down the streets and concealed from the Human eye, alongside Byakuya Kuchiki and Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, with the Cuatro Espada a few paces ahead guiding them along the way, Ichigo Kurosaki was dead quiet, apprehension consuming him, sadness engulfing him, both consistently growing, with every step taken.

The orange-haired teenager, ever since what had lately transpired between him and the other two within Las Noches, had been attempting to come to terms with the fact that Aizen did not have principled plans for the three of them and that more were bound to happen, whether he or anyone else liked it or not, only he couldn't find it in himself to be ready for them to occur.

Coupled with the coerced separation from his family and the losses of his friends, Ichigo was an emotional wreck, and would've been in a far worse state had he been alone in this horror. And though he was forcing himself to hide his feelings, the teen's distress was easily sensed by those walking next to him, and one of them decided to react on it, lest it turned damaging.

"You'll be fuckin' fine, kid" uttered Grimmjow in a soothing tone, going back to openly and genuinely expressing his concern for the teenager now that the immortal wasn't around.

Not expecting anyone to speak, the Shinigami Substitute startled faintly, brown eyes widening despite them remaining glued to the ground, before he frowned and bit his lip: "How can you be so sure?"

The blue-haired feline wordlessly arched an eyebrow as he glanced at the orange-haired from out of the corner of his eye. He had had felt the heavy dread and despair coming off the other in waves, but he hadn't thought that it was as drastic to _this_ extent.

He could hear it loud and clear in the other's voice. It was as if the sixteen-year-old teenager was steadily shattering to pieces. And like _hell_ he'd let that happen.

"You fuckin' have me, remember?"

"Is that _really_ going to make a difference, Grimmjow?"

This time, the Shinigami Substitute looked straight at the other in the eye, and the former Arrancar saw that hope was nothing more than the fading light of a flickering candle within those young eyes. It wasn't much, but to the feline, there was more than enough to salvage.

"That's what _you've_ kept telling me, no?" reminded the blue-haired gently, while inwardly remarking on how ironic it was for _him_ to be telling the teen this, he who kept warning the other from trusting him. Not that he was asking to be trusted, but rather, in this case, believed.

Ichigo didn't say anything for a moment, before he then nodded slowly and looked away, but did not seem convinced for a second: "I guess."

The orange-haired teenager's eyes widened when a sudden, firm tug to his hand halted him in his steps, causing him to swiftly turn around and come face to face with vivid, deep blue eyes peering deep within his own.

"Look on the bright side, kid. Your family and friends are danger free. Isn't that what you've always been fighting for?"

He didn't need the other to confirm he was correct. He knew he was, and he knew that the teen knew he was right, too.

As such, the young Shinigami Substitute didn't contradict him, looking away again instead, but he didn't break free from the other's hold, the other's touch, inwardly reassured and yet deterred by it. It felt familiar and foreign to him at the same time, bringing back recent memories from Las Noches, far too recent to forget...

Blushing lightly, the teen shivered at them - with what, he did not know - but he tried to redirect his focus on the fact that, so far, Grimmjow had always been supportive, concerned and dedicated towards him, despite not willing to admit to all that. Not only that, but the former Arrancar had, on his own, without anyone telling him, made a promise to Ichigo and...

"Besides, like I promised you, you ever need me, I'll be there for you in _any_ way I can" said the blue-haired decidedly all of a sudden, whispering this truth near the young teenager's ear.

A small but warm smile touched Ichigo's lips at the feline's staunch words, knowing for sure that he meant them, before he locked gazes again with the other, whispering gratefully as he wrapped his hand closed around Grimmjow's: "Thank you."

Imitating the teenager's gesture and adding a reassuring squeeze of his own, the blue-haired feline nodded with a faint grin: "Anytime."

" _When_ will you two actually realize that neither optimism nor hope has any room for us?"

Both the Shinigami Substitute and the former Arrancar turned towards the Clan's leader, only to find him throwing them a severe, if not reproachful look, and according to Grimmjow's perspective, it seemed as though Byakuya was glaring hard and directly, at their joined hands.

Needless to say, the former Arrancar was instantly put off, both by the Kuchiki's words and look in his grey eyes: "And what the fuck's _your_ problem?"

"Our situation is not to be taken as lightly as you're doing. Try and recall our predicament, the both of you" reprimanded the noble sternly, his frame tense, his features harsh and his words sharp as he aimed whatever his problem was at the blue-haired feline "Aizen Sosuke _owns_ us now, and there's very little - if not nothing - we can do to change that fact. Not me, not him, not anyone else and _certainly_ not you, no matter the amount of confidence you have."

As Ichigo's face fell dangerously and paled, Grimmjow raged furiously, but forced himself to remain collected, trying to keep in mind that the Kuchiki noble was the brother to one of the teen's closest friends, so punching his face in was a big no-no.

The Shinigami Substitute was already apprehensive and anxious, he needn't be angry too.

Blue eyes narrowing, the former Arrancar spoke through tightly clenched teeth, an irked sneer to his lips: "You couldn't have been just a little more fuckin' delicate about this, could you?"

"No point in embellishing the ugly truth with pretty lies" retorted the dark-haired male coolly.

"That's Aizen's game, not yours. Unless you suddenly want to fuckin' become like _him_ , hm?"

If the blue-haired feline hadn't previously ever been aware of a given method to rile the noble, he certainly knew now.

"Don't you _ever_ compare me to him" seethed Byakuya lethally, darkened anger flaring openly upon his features, knuckles turned white from his tightly clenched fists, as though he too, was struggling to keep his hands to himself.

Grimmjow was about to throw the other an even meaner comeback, but as Ichigo, with taut concern in his expression, gently touched his arm, the former Arrancar reigned himself in, altering his choice of words from insults to reprimands: "Tch. Then what? Your words were totally fuckin' uncalled for. I ain't fuckin' dumb, I know what's waiting. But if I can handle it and _maybe_ you can, that doesn't mean he can. Not yet anyway."

Grey eyes flitted over to the teenager's features and the noble faltered a little at what he saw there, but he did find himself saying one last blunt severity: "He'll have to eventually."

The former Arrancar stared hard at the dark-haired male, trying to decipher what the heck was the matter with the other while attempting piece back recent events, before something clicked, despite its absurdity: "Are you fuckin' jealous of Kurosaki or something, _that_ it?"

"G- _Grimmjow_! The _hell_?!"

The Kuchiki's eyes widened an imperceptible fraction before it was gone the next second and the noble looked away, muttering under his breath: "Don't be ridiculous."

Not that the Clan's leader would admit to it, but Grimmjow, however, was dead-right spot on.

Inane and unwarranted as it was, Byakuya was a little jealous, a little envious of the fact that when overwrought or overwhelmed, the feline had the impeccable ability to appease all the teenager's troubles, washing them away in barely seconds by just being _there_ for him.

The noble was in no way asking for the same treatment, no, nor was he saying that the teen didn't deserve the break the other was offering him so willingly and easily.

It was that he simply couldn't comprehend whatever bond these two very different individuals had, nor could he understand how it ever came to be. At first, the Clan's leader had found it a little odd, then he had been faintly awed by it, but now, he was slightly exasperated by its existence. He did realize that he was being all bitter about it when it wasn't his place to judge, but he just couldn't help it.

Worse, Byakuya felt somewhat left out, and by the time he noted that in fact he shouldn't at all be bothered by such a feat, he had already opened his mouth and spoken his acerbic words.

Now a certain amount of guilt was gnawing at him given that he was responsible for the strain reappearing on the teen's features right when the feline had just managed to smooth it away. The Kuchiki forcibly ignored the dark glare he was receiving on the former Arrancar's part, in favour of focusing on the youngest amongst them, wishing to repair the damage accidently inflicted upon the latter, but Byakuya didn't have time to, as the Cuatro Espada chose that very instant to speak up.

"It's not very far now" said Ulquiorra Schiffer blankly, glancing over his shoulder to where the other three had halted in their footsteps before he then carried on walking, knowing that they had no other choice but follow.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _On a beautiful, wintry evening night in the middle of Japan, sometime within the year 1885, an air of festivity touched every inhabitant of the country, dividing itself equally amidst the rich and the not-so-rich, all taking part to the high, happy and rather jolly spirit of festivities._

 _As the not-so-rich and the poor danced around jovially down in the streets, the rich partied upon higher grounds, up on the richly decorated open-plane roof tops under sparkling lights._

 _And in the middle of this very large crowd, diligently apart from all within it, stood Aizen Sosuke, leaning his back against the open balcony, arms crossed upon a rigid formal-clad frame, features incredibly indifferent, dark brown eyes distances away from his surroundings._

 _It was clear that he did not want to be here at all, that much was understood by everyone who dared to glance, and those who thought themselves to be brave enough to attempt to talk to him, were simply coldly ignored, leading them to walk away, chills going down their backs._

 _Genuinely bored out of his mind, Aizen let out a long sigh before straightening himself further and letting his gaze wander around aimlessly, forcing himself to remember that, whilst it was true that he did not belong, it wasn't really like he could go or be anywhere else._

 _He had been running back and forth between the Soul Society and the Human World, seeking stability, a reason to stay put, but nothing seemed to enchant him anymore. Not even revenge._

 _His guardian demon, Manter, the Witch of Lust, had given him more than he had ever learnt, raising his potential to an astronomical degree, heightening his abilities to a vivid sharpness and lethalness, but even so, Aizen had no motivation for vengeance._

 _To what end would his avenging lead? The dead would not applaud him, nor would the living congratulate him. And what if it was just in his name, for his sake? He'd like to believe that he wasn't that shallow. Besides, even if he were to triumph, which was quite unlikely given his current state of mind, he had experienced more hardships than anyone else from his clan had ever had to endure, between the demise and losses of cherished ones and the deeds he himself had committed without restraint. He was not seeking salvation, mind you, he did not need it, for he was far above that after all. But he_ _ **was**_ _seeking. And he had yet to know what that was, though a part of him was asking, begging for some sort of closure. Of a well-needed ending..._

 _During his exodus, he had met others not quite like him, but still sharing a certain similarity. They proved helpful in their differences and dependable in their likenesses, but the main idea was, they had pulled away from the unsafe aspect of their origins, preferring to create chaos within the weak hearts of men rather than stand up to the souls of the Soul Society's soldiers._

 _Aizen had to admit that he did not see himself do the same, but he did accept to give it a try, see where it would lead._

 _So here he was, mingling amidst humans, some of the most depressing, dull and vain people one could find within the world of Mankind, and he was regretting every single second of it... Until a particular figure caught Aizen's eye, not because he was looking but rather because something about her had suddenly drawn his attention, and he had yet to comprehend why._

 _Just like him, she stood apart, this young girl with the quaint appearance of a porcelain doll - delicate yet not frail, cute yet not innocent - effortlessly standing out and aside from the endless flock of individuals chatting away and frolicking about aimlessly, their laughter artificial, their nods mechanical, their expressions non-natural._

 _Sipping her glass of wine in silence, she regarded them all, out of the corner of her eye, with spiteful scorn, which was heavily coated within a thick layer, and a rather odd combination, of icy apathy and scorching anger. It was as though she passionately loathed everyone and everything that crossed her eyesight, wishing for them to all burn to ashes and dust, and yet, at the same time, she appeared to be entirely and utterly detached by what surrounded her..._

 _Aizen gazed at her with a hint of interest. He didn't even know such a combination was likely, other than for him and a couple of other people he knew, that is. Cold, dark eyes laced with contempt and transcendence, whilst being as distant as though one was worlds far apart from all and everyone, and despite that, being just as deeply immersed in life. Like gods dwelling high above, looking and seldom intervening below._

 _Truly fascinating._

 _Ditching his personal philosophies for tonight and acting on mere impulse, or probably out of sheer curiosity, Aizen opted upon talking to her, gradually moving towards her from through the crowd, ignoring those who called out to him, dodging those who reached for him._

 _Finally getting to her location, the brown-haired man parted his lips to engage her within a conversation, choosing a banal topic that was certain to make any first encounter unruffled: "Lovely night, isn't it?"_

 _Her large, pretty eyes widened as she slowly turned her attention towards him, as if taken aback that someone would actually be brave enough to address her, given the unforthcoming demeanour she upheld so no one would dare approach her. All those who passed her by were allowed but a fleeting glance, and nothing more._

 _She assessed him carefully, fully, from head to toe, taking all her time to dissect him with her penetrating gaze, testing if he wasn't troubled or intimidated by her scrutinizing, critical eyes. And he wasn't._

 _So, in a gesture of faint esteem, she dropped her mask and her face softened, eyes twinkling with intrigue and lips curving up into a sweet, mischievous smile as she uttered with flaunted, hyperbolic tedium, in a tone of voice that was sweet and somewhat childish: "Not really, no."_

 _Unreservedly riveted by the total change her expression had underwent in barely seconds, it took a moment for the brown-haired to register that she had actually answered him: "Oh? How so?"_

 _Making a show of sighing theatrically, the young girl, smile turned to smirk, nodded in the direction of the orchestra playing for the evening, her gesture aimed directly at the woman singing in middle: "It'd be truly lovely if_ _ **somebody**_ _actually had the audacity to admit out loud that that singing is_ _ **dreadful**_ _."_

 _Of all the replies he had expected, a complaint involving the cold, chilly weather, or boredom, or really just having a bad time in general, this had not been one of them._

 _It sounded so mundane, yet at the same time so outlandish, that it threw the other totally off, causing him to blink repeatedly as his gaze flitted between her and the singer, trying to decipher the meaning of her response whilst finding the time to comment abstractedly: "It's not_ _ **that**_ _bad."_

" _Oh, it_ _ **is**_ _" she contradicted sweetly, before she threw an unequivocally disgusted, yet rather comical, look in the singer's direction "She's basically_ _ **caterwauling**_ _."_

 _The young girl's mordant bluntness had Aizen laughing - laughing genuinely,_ _ **not**_ _chuckling, a rather rare feat truth to be told - before he went and quirked an eyebrow at her: "You clearly are not afraid to speak your mind."_

" _Nothing to be afraid of" she smiled sweetly as she gingerly raised her glass back to her lips and batted her eyelashes prettily at the dark brown-haired man, leading him to smirk in turn._

 _One conversation leading to another, neither felt the time pass them by as they indulged from small talk to questions and answers to utterly random exchanges, neither willing to pull away, an immediate and undeniable spark of attraction heavy within the air surrounding the two._

 _The young girl seemed to enjoy the attention, and Aizen was simply too absorbed to put their dialogue to an end. There was a detail in particular that kept him rather flabbergasted, quite flustered and slightly frustrated at the same._

 _He made it a firm habit to be able to read people or, even by taking things a notch further, accurately anticipate what they would say or do. He did like being surprised every now and then, true, but this was the first time, in his entire existence, that he couldn't guess what this young girl would do or say next. Just like the hazard of a Russian roulette, she was utterly and completely unpredictable, not even her eyes could be read, a thin veil within them fully concealing her emotions, the latter finding room only to flicker faintly upon her features._

 _Unpredictability was not something the brown-haired man was used to, or rather it was something he did not really sit well with. Aizen preferred having all planned for ahead, with multiple back-up plans and loopholes that he could use to his advantage, and this applied to everything he encountered._

 _However, this girl's erratic volatility was not unpleasant, far from it. It was rather intriguing, fascinating,_ _enthralling, and Aizen, for once, in spite of being acutely aware of the many jeopardies that were highly likely to follow, didn't want to pull away._

 _Because for once, it wasn't he who was pushing another into the depths of desire._ _ **He**_ _was the one going through it._

 _He was lusting, madly, for this young girl he barely knew, and, no matter the reason he came up with to explain this sudden impulse she had implanted within him, he couldn't comprehend why. It was normally_ _ **he**_ _who incarnated lust, drew others into it. He should_ _ **not**_ _be a victim here. And yet, he was drowning beneath torrents and waves of unthinkable and unbearable desire, barely able to restrain himself, barely able to keep his mind clear, barely able to think._

" _Hmm" she hummed gently all of a sudden, breaking the other out of his rather disconcerting thoughts and leading him to realize that he had actually been staring at her rather intently, and probably rather intensely too._

 _Clearing his throat, he forced himself to calm down while swiftly offering her a charming smile, hoping to erase whatever expression he had been wearing prior: "What is it?"_

 _With two slender and delicate fingers tapping gently at her chin in thought, the young girl contemplated again the brown-haired man in front her, paying further attention to his face this time, before she uttered candidly: "Now that I'm_ _ **really**_ _looking at you, I'd say you're rather good-looking."_

 _Again, her straightforward spontaneity took Aizen completely aback whilst also managing to momentarily flush out his impure and stifling thoughts, before he then chuckled quietly and if one were paying close attention, they would have sworn to have a seen a brief, impalpable blush: "My. How bold of you."_

" _I speak my mind, remember?" she grinned cheekily with a soft whisper to her voice, an abrupt yet faint breeze causing her long strands to slightly billow around her, caressing the lines of her porcelain features as they did so, and Aizen went incredibly still, feeling as though the heart he had and took for granted, had just skipped a beat._

 _And so, he decided there and then, that whatever unclear and unfamiliar sentiment he was experiencing for this girl, no matter how unethical and unprincipled it felt or seemed, or how damned he'd be in the end, he'd accept any consequences if meant being able to be with her._

 _Smoothing out his features once more, Aizen asked gently, though his dark brown eyes shone with an unnatural light: "Could you honour me with your name, young maiden?"_

 _Noticing the sudden change in the other with a perplexed blink, there was a very slight hint of qualm for a moment in her eyes before it was gone the next, with her smiling playfully at him: "Only if, in turn, you'll give me yours, my good sir."_

 _Eyes softening, he effortlessly nodded at her with an inviting smile: "Certainly."_

" _Very well then. My names is-"_

 _The singer chose that very moment to end her melody for the night and in response the crowd applauded abundantly, causing an uproar of clapping, cheering and whistling, nothing but wild, endless noise that completely drowned out the rest of the young girl's words._

 _Slightly startled, Aizen winced and glared faintly at the excited crowd, before raising his tone a little as he voiced apologetically to the girl: "My apologies, I didn't quite heard you. Would it be alright if I took your hand to draw you closer?"_

 _As he held out a hand towards her, once again, she did what he did not expect. She hesitated._

 _Given that her face had abruptly become unreadable and blank except for a faint frown, Aizen had absolutely no idea if the reason for her hesitance was just an aversion to touch or a simple caution towards a stranger._

 _Just as he was about to reassure her that he meant her no harm, she looked straight into his eyes, and whatever Aizen had been about to say was totally robbed away from him, leaving his mind as if the words had never been there in the first place. Of all the heavily guarded eyes he had encountered, never had he been able to read ones as easily as he was currently reading hers._

 _The main reason, of course, was because she was allowing him, but what he saw, slightly unsettled him, which quite honestly was a first for him. Unsettled not because it was ghastly or dreadful or the like, but rather because its brutal honesty was intimidating, a threat in a way. The meaning of what her soul was screaming stridently as a blaring warning through her eyes, despite the utter stillness and silence of her entire being, was clear as crystal. It said: 'I don't trust easily. I don't love easily. But if I do, if I open up to someone, I will give more than I receive, cherish more than I am loved. But betray me, in any way I deem to be a betrayal, and no wrath tasted before will be bitter than mine.'_

 _With her threat out wide in the open, she observed him carefully, watchfully, like a predator waiting to strike, waiting for his falsehoods, waiting for his fear, waiting for him to flee. But instead of backing away, of retreating, of leaving and leaving for good, a subtle but solemn air of understanding crossed his features and, not uttering a word, he merely held out his hand further for her to take, his stance strong, unwavering, hoping to convey his sincerity._

 _A silent beat rang out, as the two silently stared at each other, and then, ever so slowly, she gracefully reached out a dainty hand to touch his, with these words tentatively escaping her lips, her significant sentence a reply to his previous request of permission: "I permit you."_

 _As their bare hands connected, all of a sudden, a particular tingling sensation, like a static shock, ran through them, touching every inch of their being, leading both to stare at each other in a new light, now instantly aware of who the other was, with him gaping at her in disbelief and awe, and her eyeing him with despair and alarm._

 _Now, they knew that, after all the years he had been seeking her kind and her all this time she had been fleeing his kind, it was currently absolutely certain that neither could be with each other, couldn't be together. There was just no way. Their respective lineage decreed it. It was in their blood._

 _She knew that, he knew that, but unlike her who sought to pull away and flee, he didn't budge, refusing to let her slip through his fingers as his hold tightened to a frightening degree, his hand locked around hers in an iron grip, like a manacle of unrelenting steel._

" _Let me go" she called out firmly yet with a hint of desperation, her voice but a warning whisper lost in the applause, as she vividly attempted to free herself "It will only end badly if you don't."_

 _Acting as though he did not hear her, the brown-haired man swiftly tugged her towards him, causing her to collide into him, her face to his chest, before he then wrapped his arms around her securely, pinning her against him in a caging embrace._

" _Now that I have my hands on you?" voiced Aizen smoothly, a sly smirk slowly stretching over his features in a chillingly ominous way, whilst she froze and paled significantly as she realized the double entendre ringing out in the air "I think not."_

 _After being cast in a prolonged state of lethargic and idle slumber, Aizen Sosuke felt revived, determined, finally set to go back to his quest of revenge, now with a valid reason to kill_ _ **(2)**_ _..._

Large, pretty magenta eyes cast a lethargic, jaded and rather apathetic gaze outside, looking without really seeing as four figures neared the entrance further down beyond the vicinity of the lavishly clad room which she was in, leaning lax against the window frame, arms crossed.

Dark pink-dyed lips parted to let out a deep, quite audible sigh, before she leaned her forehead straight upon the impeccably clean glass of the window pane in front of her, erroneously assuming that she knew exactly what those people were: "And it's not _even_ fuckin' night yet. Hopeless, worthless scum with nothing better to do with their fuckin' lives."

She heard the door behind her open gently all of a sudden and was quick to frown in irritation.

Still staring out the window, she kept her back towards whoever it was that had just arrived, not even gracing them with a glance, as she spoke up from between clenched teeth, her tone of voice hostile and harsh, despite the overall timbre having a sweet and somewhat childish undertone: "Whoever it is, I'm _not_ in the fuckin' mood. There are least eight more hours or so before sunset, so leave me the fuck alone till then. Now, get the fuck _out_ or so help _you_ , I'll-"

"Hello again, my sweet, lovely Doll."

Going fully rigid, she didn't even bother turn around, knowing exactly _who_ stood behind her.

A sudden intense inferno was set ablaze in her gradually widening eyes as she uttered slowly, lethalness upon her tongue and envenomed hatred etched deep within her voice: " _Sosuke_..."

 **Next Update:** _A Horrifying Reality (Chapter 1)._

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 **(1)** In the Bleachverse, we know only of Karakura and that place where Keigo lives, a town starting with ' _n_ ', I believe (forgot the name, but I know the Fullbringer Arc happens majorly there). Other than that, we have _nothing_ , so I allowed myself to come up with this bordering town called _Karigura_ where the events of Part 2 will occur, Karigura being derived from 'Caligula', the Roman emperor (given that I've seen a movie about him recently). Why the name? Uh, Romans were like the biggest sinners of all time. _Seriously_. They were of a great, historic civilization, but they _literally_ embodied every single deadly sin. I'm having a hard time bleaching my mind clean of what I saw in that movie, along with this other movie, _Titus_ (featuring _Anthony Hopkins_ ). Still have the chills...

 **(2)** Chronologically speaking, the second part of Sojun' memories (where Aizen finds out about Sojun's betrothal), happens sometime _before_ Aizen meets Doll. And, plot-wise, meeting Doll was the main drive for Aizen standing up to the Seireitei as well as, notably, his current plans for Byakuya in particular, as in basically most of what's happening and has happened is because of Doll, sort of. If that's far too ambiguous, it'll clear up later on, fret not everybody.

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A/N: So this interlude actually (but not fully) points out to whatever has been left unsaid and unclear in _Part One_. However, as you guys can tell, I haven't explained _everything_... Another thing, before we go further, I'd like to clarify something if you guys don't mind. So, Ichigo, Grimmjow and Byakuya **are** the main characters of this fic, and Aizen the main villain, true. **But** , there are other characters that have a certain relevance to the whole plotline, both villains and not, as you have surely noticed. If you haven't, it's fine, you'll figure it out eventually. Hence, when I go around featuring other none-OC characters, I _have_ a **reason**. I'm not doing this to waste time or anything like that, just so you know. This is a little parenthesis, as well as it being directed to whom it may concern. Thank you for reading and for your consideration...


	2. Part Two: Chapter 1

**The Fallen Series (a Bleach Fanfiction) by Seth's Kiss:**

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone, as well as a rather late Merry Christmas! So I was really looking forward to posting monthly for this part, however, time honestly _doesn't_ agree with me. Hence, it'll either be an update per month (hopefully), or one month yes, one month nada. Sighs... See, the dialogues are quite easy. The inspiration comes very quickly and it's actually the very first thing I get to type down. But the _rest_...Ugh, takes _ages_ , especially with nagging nonsense dragging me away from writing. So complaining aside, I hope you'll like this update. Feel free to share your thoughts! Enjoy!

 **P.S:** I've put up a poll on my profile and it would be nice _really_ if you could take a look at it.

 **Poll:** **What will you be willing to read in the upcoming chapters?**

Rating for this chapter: Language, verbal abuse, threats, intimidation and _many_ insinuations. If you no like, well, I'm sorry about that...Not that much, no... Also, starting next chapter, the insinuations will no longer _be_ insinuations, the majority of the characters getting a little **_more_** physical. Felt safe to warn.

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 ** _ **Responding to your reviews:**_**

 **To Guest 1:** Thank you very much for your review! I'm very glad that you like it so far and I wish you'll enjoy the rest just as much! Hope to hear from you soon! Bye for now!

 **To Peace and Glory:** Hello and thank you _so **very**_ much for your review! I saw your review for Part 1 and I was feeling bad about not being able to respond, so when you reviewed here, I was genuinely thrilled. And I'm _really_ glad that you chose to read this fic and that it is to your liking. I too prefer dark stories and not finding enough to my fancy is actually what pushed me to write. And if you're happy, then so am I! So Grimmjow is your favourite, huh? _Of course_ he is, what's _not_ to like? I'd like to believe that he has a lot more depth than what a good average of us Bleach fans think, and I push my belief as far as I can. Some disagree, but my thoughts and will are my own (shrugs). I'm glad that you enjoyed the interrogation scene between Gin and Aizen: some found Gin to be out of character. As for the four horsemen, Soifon actually was a last minute choice: I was really going to pick Gin at first, but I wanted to do the unexpected, and after toying with that thought for a while, I went for Soifon. I am _overjoyed_ that you deem Ichigo to be well portrayed: you cannot imagine how _hard_ it is for me. I even delayed his appearance in the fic because I was so worried that I'd get him wrong at some point. He _is_ the hero of the series, so it's only fair to do him justice, but it comes with such heavy risks. So your thoughts on him make me feel loads better, _thank you_ (currently a very happy person). I'm honestly surprised about Rukia. I mean, she isn't my favourite person either but most of the people I know prefer her to Orihime. Good to know that I'm not the only one that isn't really fond of her. Byakuya Kuchiki is an _immense_ challenge because he's one of those characters who hide behind a wall of apathy, features and emotions revealed at a minimum, so you're left wondering what the _heck_ is going on that pretty little head of his. I'm still not convinced that I understand him that well. Him and Aizen. Oh my God, Sosuke Aizen is the most difficult of all, _especially_ since I've made even _more_ complicated than what he already was. I wonder what overcame me. When bringing in the seven deadly sins into this, I instantly associated Aizen with Lust (given his thirst for knowledge and power), and then this led to that, leaving me with the Aizen featured in this fic. I truly adore him as a villain (which is odd as I don't really like characters with a god complex, _aka_ Light Yagami) so I _really_ don't want to ruin him. Writing isn't as easy as we think, huh? But if you like his portrayal, that's good enough for me (broad smile). But since you're mentioning it: so far, it has been clarified that Aizen _only_ forced Grimmjow and a few unmentioned Espada. He might use physical proximity to intimidate as well as make threats of carrying rape out on someone, but so far, hasn't gone any further than that...For now, every hint has been purposely left as a blur. As for Nel, how you wish to see her is entirely up to you. See, as you've pointed out, I didn't mention anything and I actually did that on purpose. Some like her as a kid, others as an adult, and a few like the idea of her being able to sporadically shift between the two (I'm part of this group), so seriously feel free. The MxMxM scene was my very first time writing such a thing. So glad you liked it, though my friend's dream really does deserve more credit. And you figured out who Doll is? I'm not really hiding it to be honest, only _what_ she is, is definitely not what you think, and I'll leave it at that ( _suspense_!). B.T.W, given that I had complained about it, I'm rather grateful that you read the Author's Notes. That means a lot. Thank you for giving this fic and me a chance (I _love_ that you love this story!), and I sincerely hope to keep up to your expectations with future updates. Looking forward to hearing further from you!

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 **Part Two: Dignity Falls:**

 **Chapter 1:** A Horrifying Reality:

A blistering glacial ire ruled over the dead silent dim-lit room and was so powerful, that any other sentiments that may be have also been there, were entirely stifled and utterly shattered.

After a moment that seemed to last forever, she half-turned, ever so slowly, taking all her time, looking from over her shoulder to face him. Setting but a single eye upon him, and, like long before, although outwardly he didn't give anything away, Aizen's breath was taken from him all over again.

It had been far longer than over a hundred years, and despite that, she had not changed at all. And though it was to be expected, it was still rather unbelievably far-fetched to set eyes upon.

The same lithe, supple frame, not too tall and not too short, not too skinny either but still rather slender and thin. Curves all in the right places but not too much to be vulgar or showy. The same porcelain doll face, with overall childlike facial characteristics, despite the beauty of maturity that came with a faint touch of make-up to her features. Dark pink-dyed lips - which were set in a thin, tight line - and thick black mascara to her large, pretty eyes - which were critically narrowed - was all that was needed to give her the appearance of a young girl caught between the critical crisis changes from childhood to adulthood.

Pale cream skin captured within a basic majorly black Lolita outfit, with an elaborate criss-crossed back outline and a ruby buttoned front. The bottom of the dress hitched midway upon her thighs, revealing dark stockings that began an inch lower and ending with high-heeled dark burgundy boots, with an uncovered front showing off vibrant pink-coloured toe nails. The dress's long red Victorian-like sleeves brushed over her knuckles, revealing long, fairy-like fingers with bright pink nails, several rings of dissimilar calibre and shape on her hands.

Vivid long hair caught in twin pigtails ran down her back, a few stray strands spread over her small shoulders, whilst her face was framed by neat bangs on her forehead and a single, thick fringe to the right, with three simple onyx studded gems piercing her left ear.

They stared at each other in still silence, neither looking away. Like always, her expression was for the most part unreadable to him. She _looked_ angry, _very angry_. Her fists clenched, tight and white, while shaking hard at her at her side, as if she wanted to punch something - or rather _someone_ \- but was containing herself, despite seemingly to put a lot of desperate effort in doing so. But then again she had gradually developed a nasty knack of using a burning, belligerent ferocity to keep undercover most of her emotions, so he couldn't really tell.

The immortal's dark brown eyes softened as he gazed at her gently before he began to address her. His voice was of a silky, serene tone never heard prior to now: "Long time no see, my l-"

"What the fuck are **_you_** doing _here_ , you FUCKIN'-?!"

Here, the child of chaos could only sigh rather deeply as he let her rant out, flaunting her ire. Although he should have known that she wouldn't cave into pleasantries, as always preferring the direct and blunt approach. To her, such 'small talk' was an utter waste of time, as well as a show of unwarranted pretence.

Also, he should have known better than to believe that it was just her appearance that hadn't changed. Her rage was still there and still directed at him, quite understandably so, her tongue lethal poison filled to the brim with harsh loutishness. He had hoped however that, in time, she'd come to forget, that she'd come to, somehow, forgive. But time clearly wasn't enough to quell a grudge, in addition to forgiveness not at all being in her nature. She wasn't born to forgive or to ever forget, just like he could not lie.

"You're the one standing in _my_ quarters" he pointed out smoothly upon sobering and letting himself in, heading for the large desk on the other side of the room, eyes never leaving hers.

" _Not_ what I fuckin' meant," sneered Doll viciously, cooling down a little and throwing her head back with a curt gesture before tapping her foot impatiently, repeatedly as an emphasis to her following words "You know _very_ well that this is the _only_ place where _no one_ will _ever_ enter with you absent and I, sometimes, _need_ the fuckin' privacy this fuckin' room offers!"

What she said was true. No one dared step over this office's threshold with Aizen absent, with her being an exception. Point in fact, she was an actual exception to many things, not just that.

Seating himself comfortably upon the desk itself and fiddling with a few stray papers on it, the immortal glanced at her with raised eyebrows, tone slightly patronizing, teasing: "You do notice that you appear to be justifying yourself?"

Only she did not seem to be in a joking mood as she seethed out slowly, an eyebrow arching irritably: " _Fuck you_. Answer me, Sosuke. Why. Are. You. _Here_?"

"I'm here on business" replied the immortal evenly, facing her this time in all seriousness whilst folding his arms "Fret not, I won't be staying long."

Narrowing her eyes, she uttered through tightly clenched teeth: "That's _not_ the fuckin' _point_."

"I assure you that I _won't_ be here forever" he placated gently as he left his makeshift seat and made his way over to her, stopping a fair yet not that far distance from her and giving her a small and atypically sincere smile "You don't even have to see me if you wish."

"Promises, promises" she muttered mockingly while rolling her eyes before swiftly stopping them to lock dead on with his, as she huffed with derisive incredulity "You know as well as I that _you_ can't fuckin' keep away from me."

"I never lie, love."

"No, but you deviously _deny_ , and can't bring yourself to fuckin' _admit_ that you. Can't. Stay. _Away_ ," punctuated Doll heatedly, prodding a finger pointedly at his taut chest and digging in hard for emphasis, which made him tense even further as her touch caused him to shiver.

Both were in forms that kept them connected to the physical plane, giving them more access than the little offered by an astral - soul - form. So any touch felt authentically real, more so than usual given the enhancement of the artificial bodies they wore. A sole touch, warm or cold, pleasant or painful, flesh to flesh or not, was like a sharp and sudden electrifying burn.

"Neither can _you_ ," stated the immortal knowingly, while swiftly capturing her hand in his and caressing it gently with his thumb, his features holding a certain level of seriousness.

Vividly snatching her hand away from his hold, as if she had been burnt, she briefly stared at him in deadpan silence, before she scoffed, which then quickly shifted to her throwing her head back as she let out a harsh, mocking laugh.

The child of chaos merely stared at her with a flat expression, waiting until she calmed down and spoke up again, her eyes narrowed with disdain, her clenched smile forced: "I _don't_ love you, Sosuke."

Keenly expecting to have upset or even hurt him, her face fell when he smirked broadly, eyes twinkling impishly as he took a single, slow step towards her: "No? You don't? Not even _a little_?"

Breath hitching faintly, her eyes widened, hand hastily held out to keep him where he was: "Back the fuck off. I _mean_ it."

Acting as if he didn't hear her, the child of chaos pressed further, voice lower as he took yet another step towards her, closing the distance. Now the two were face to face, too close, her hand still upon his chest, but no longer pushing him: "Not even a _tiny_ bit?"

"I fuckin' _hate_ you," she spat venomously, eyes flashing, threateningly baring her pearly white teeth as she stood tall, defiant, hoping to convey to the other that she meant every word.

Only - when he _did_ manage to discern it accurately - Aizen was rather used to this part of her, for Doll always attempted to the worst to set him off. Trying to rile him up, expressing anger and loathing, throwing taunts and hurtful words, playing with and on his feelings, pushing him over the edge, driving him _mad_. All these were her way to get back at him. Sometimes it worked, spectacularly so when she hit the right buttons, but other times, he was aware enough of her intentions and forced himself to remain level-headed.

Had it been anyone else, they would have easily, effortlessly been fooled by her. But not him.

Aizen couldn't read every single aspect of her demeanour most of the time, but right now, he could see the slightest chink through her incredibly convincing act. She didn't pull away, she didn't evade him. Even out of rebelliousness, repulsion would be stronger and at some point it would have made her turn away from him. But she _didn't_. She stayed, and she stayed close.

"And you say _I_ deny," he smirked loftily, tilting his head slightly to the side as he yet again took a hold of her hand, entwining their fingers together, his lips stretching wider when she didn't pull free this time, choosing to merely narrow her eyes and sneer up at him instead.

"You know well that's _what_ fuckin' you do," she maintained, reflexively mirroring his head movement yet in the opposite direction "Not admitting something makes it fuckin' _denial_."

"Or simply silence. Maybe I don't have a way to respond to the query at hand," he murmured with faint uncertainty which was gone fast before it could be registered, previous expression back in place as he smoothly neared his face to hers "At least, as I've said before, _I_ never lie."

"No real fuckin' need to when your bloody blade and so many other people can do it _for_ you," she pointed out inflexibly, once again mimicking the other's movement "But we both know that you fuckin' would if you could."

"Though I'll admit to that, I do remain far fonder of the ugly truth than of beautiful lies. The former hurts so much _more_."

Though her eyes remained hardened, her features lost a little bitterness and her tone lost half of its aggression, her softened voice still reproachful, but not that resentful, whilst her words seemed to hold a certain double entendre: "Fuckin' sadistic bastard."

"Not changing there," he whispered complacently with a soft smile as he leaned in just a little further, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes while once more inwardly putting in question what it was he'd always feel around her, any sensible thoughts of his dissolving into thin air.

As he had uttered his words, Doll's eyes were suddenly drawn downwards to fixate on his lips barely a breath from hers, with only one, single inane yet unrelenting impulse on her mind. She wanted, desperately _needed_ , to taste them.

A magnetic pull, an unreasonable allure, an unbearable desire, an indecipherable sensation...

And this wasn't in any way the immortal's subtle persuasive ability talking.

It had been so _long_. Yet still, like long before, hate mingled quite dangerously with passion, making a horrible mess of her emotions, and leading her use anger as an escape, as salvation.

Raging resentment at him aside, no matter what was tried, Doll still had them, still _felt_ them.

And like him, she did not fully understand her feelings, _these_ feelings. But compared to him, she had once been far more acceptant of their existence, embracing the fact that she could feel affection for someone, although she wasn't supposed to, wasn't meant to, wasn't born to...

Odd that out of the two of them, it was the one that had dreaded their first meeting to be the one to have been far more open to the entire concept, rather than the one to have initiated it.

Even so, Doll didn't see herself easily getting over what he had done to her just yet. She despised him for his deeds. And she hated, more than anything, that she _still_ fell for him. But as Aizen drew even closer, she had yet to pull away, her eyes closing, lucidity running away...

"I'm not interrupting, am I?"

The spell was brutally broken and the magic of the moment fully dissipated, as the impeding interruption caused them both to abruptly come back to their senses, with Doll indignantly realizing what she had almost let happen and Aizen harshly bitter at the missed occasion.

A set of two narrowed eyes, one of riled magenta and the other irritated dark brown, swiftly darted simultaneously towards the source of interference.

At the entrance, not stepping a foot over the threshold but still comfortably leaning upon the doorframe as if it belonged to him, stood a young man with crossed arms, a smirk smugly situated upon his luscious lips and a malign glint in his sinisterly arrogant, dark green emerald eyes, framed by long blonde eyelashes.

Tall and lean, dressed in skin-tight, black leather trousers, a sleeveless black leather jacket with a low V-neck opening, studded black gloves and a studded collar, a male version of a dominatrix with long pale blonde hair pulled in an elaborate ponytail, long locks framing handsomely plain but _deadly_ features while the rest of the locks trailed past his shoulders. His thin blonde eyebrows rose expectantly as he waited for one of the other two to answer him.

"Go to hell and fuckin' rot there," deadpanned Doll, responding to the intruder's query, as she placed some distance between herself and Aizen before she flipped the blonde off without any hesitation, leading the latter to merely snort scathingly at her, not at all affected.

"Dear, oh dear. Where did all the cute an' coy run off to, doll face?" taunted the blonde slyly with a smirk, to which she was quick respond to with a low hiss, fist clenching in warning.

"You came here for a reason, hm?" inquired the irked immortal impassively, attempting to keep calm and, at the same time, step in before the banal banter escalated too far, too fast.

"Yes, Suzuki-sama," replied the blonde reverently, instantly putting his stand-off with Doll on halt in favour of deferentially according his full attention to the child of chaos "A message from Manter-sama: 'Those three have arrived'."

Given the flagrant renewed tension weaved between him and Doll, Aizen would have gladly accepted such an occasion to take his leave, but, on afterthought, it would appear as though he was fleeing. A single glance in her direction told him, as she watched him vigilantly from out of the corner of her eye, that she was expecting him to do _exactly_ that. Again.

 _Unacceptable_.

Eyes going wide, Doll was totally taken aback as the immortal ordered calmly once he had turned his focus back onto the other male: "Leave it to Manter for the time being. I'll see to this matter afterwards... Oh, and before I forget, Jugo, come back in a moment, with the other two. I need to inform you on something important."

"By your command, Suzuki-sama," bowed said young man, before he then left straight after that, the stiletto heels of his leather boots clicking away on the immaculate checker tiled-floor.

Another thick silence fell over the room, heavier than before, until the child of chaos broke it, his tone stiff, his voice deep, his words curt: "We'll deal with this later, Doll."

"Rather _never_ ," she uttered under her breath as she directed herself straight towards the door.

Dark eyes flashed in her direction with an indecipherable emotion: " _Must_ you be this way?"

"Must _you_?" threw back Doll vividly, pointedly looking down where _he_ was the one with a steadfast grip upon her wrist, halting her from departing, as if afraid that she'd forever ' _leave'_.

His apprehension on the subject was as ever so apparent to her, but she couldn't quite bring herself to feel affected by that part of the immortal anymore. She felt incarcerated, jailed, and she wanted _out_. And she wasn't insinuating that being kept _here_ was what was bothering her.

"Why, _why_ can't you just let me fuckin' go, Sosuke?" she whispered quietly, voice cracking a little as she openly showed the other how horrible, how pained she felt deep down inside, her wide doll eyes briefly conveying all of that to him, not currently hiding anything at all.

She then looked away and lowered her eyes, blocking him out and biting her lower lip hard: " _Please_. Just let me _go_."

Though she wasn't quite talking about the present moment, Aizen, far more disconcerted than he thought he'd be by the display of her distress, immediately withdrew his hold on her, even taking a step back to give her space, which she took advantage of by turning her back to him, hiding whatever expression had flitted upon her features, but, again, she did not leave. Only that went unnoticed by the immortal who had closed his eyes, his thoughts in disarray.

They both stood apart in silence, immobile and rigid, his body tense and her mind poisonous.

He betrayed her, when she had explicitly warned him against it. He had betrayed her, when he had picked her safety _before_ her feelings. Now, here they were. And she refused to aimlessly forgive. Unless, under the guise of some sort of miracle, _he_ made the first step. And he _won't_.

"I wish I never met you," choked out Doll lowly, her tone infuriated and thick with emotion.

"What a _wonderful_ way to continue our conversation," sighed Aizen sarcastically, wearily, her words stabbing at his usually apathetic heart, before he opened his eyes again and walked to her, hand reaching into one of his trousers' pockets "And me who had brought you a gift."

Not even bothering to move, her response was immediate, juvenile: "Don't fuckin' want it."

Retrieving a small rectangular velvet box from his person, the child of chaos spoke evenly as he held it out to her: "At least take a look at it."

She stood her ground for a moment, before she eventually consented, turning halfway towards him and delicately seizing, between slender fingers, the box handed over to her.

Despite her hidden lethalness, her every movement unintentionally held a certain given level of grace and delicacy. It was set within her since a very young age to derail others, to let them foolishly underestimate what she was truly capable of.

Opening the lid carefully, Doll's heart stopped as her eyes shone in synch with the gorgeous necklace staring straight back at her. A silver chain with floral designs cut in diamonds, each flower centred with a glittering dark pink gem **(1)**.

Dropping in shock both the box and what was in it to the floor with a thud, her hammering heart ended being the only sound to her ears as she gazed at the jewellery on and on, unable to look away or even blink.

Though it shimmered in the light with speck clean spotlessness, this necklace was decades old. And she would know. Of the rare people she had come to cherish, this had once belonged to one of them, the best and the one who raised her. A woman beyond dear to her. Deceased.

After a certain accident that had occurred, she had thought it lost, out of reach, forever gone. Yet here it was, right within her grasp. And Doll was over the moon with bliss.

She wanted to melt, to flash the child of chaos a million watt smile, but resisted the impulse.

Tightly clutching her hands to her chest under the other's silent watchful gaze, she refused to reveal how much this had moved her so she kept her expression blank, before it sharply twisted into a nasty sneer, while her tone was sharp, cutting, a blade as she locked eyes gone hard, frozen, on the man she hated to love: "Hmpf. A fuckin' collar? It isn't enough that you fuckin' caged me in this body - in this existence - _now_ you want to fuckin' _chain_ me?"

Not that he was expecting her to jump with joy, but the immortal's face fell entirely at her choice of words, as they had never once crossed his mind, leaving room first to shock and dismay, before his expression then shifted to vexation, oddly laced with faint traces of hurt: "It sincerely amazes me how very _little_ it takes for you to make me _profoundly_ aggravated."

" _I'm_ the one who should fuckin' complain about how you get me to...fuckin' _feel_ the way I do by just being _around_ and I-" had begun to rage Doll vividly before abruptly cutting herself off, a blush touching her features as she realized, with true horror, what she had almost said _'And I hate that I love you more than I should.'_

"And _how_ do I make you feel exactly?" he questioned with an arched eyebrow, genuinely intrigued by the other's near slip-up, wondering what she had been about to say.

Glaring at him, she declared staunchly, her words resounding like childish denial: "You're the _last_ fuckin' person I'd tell in this life. Or in the next as a matter of fact. And even if there were other lives beyond that, I'd _still_ not fuckin' tell you."

Smoothly chasing off the former emotional reaction she had drawn from him, the immortal chose to chuckle and shake his head at her: "Well, well, you're certainly being overdramatic."

"You fuckin' _get off_ on drama, no?" deadpanned Doll knowingly with raised eyebrows before she sauntered off towards the desk, comfortably adopting Aizen's former position there.

"True," he smirked smugly while she rolled her eyes, before he tilted his head as he regarded her with a mischievous look "Tell me, what else are you to expect from a Child of Lust?"

"And _that's why_ I want you fuckin' _gone_ ," she stressed out with a low hiss, a frown marring her doll features "We had a fuckin' deal, remember?"

Sighing, the child of chaos crossed his arms and looked out the large window with a distant expression: "I know."

Ticked off by his clear-cut response, she narrowed her eyes with her teeth clenched into an irked smirk: " _Do_ you? Why are you _still_ fuckin' here then?"

"I _told_ you that, for the moment, I have matters to _attend_ to," he placated gently, locking eyes with her again as he promised with sincerity, despite seeming to still be mentally somewhere else "With them done, I will leave again. I promise."

Considering his contemplative air and knowing that it hid deep, darker waters, Doll asked: "How long?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On a lot of things, dear."

Irritated by his unelaborated replies, a couple of veins throbbed viciously upon her forehead as she grinned angrily: "Like _what_ , Sosuke? Stop with the fuckin' riddles, would you?"

Hesitant, the child of chaos gazed at her with inscrutable features before looking back out the window as he spoke: "I'm working on a project that may or may not work."

With an expectant expression, she waited for him to continue, and when he didn't, Doll stated impatiently: "You're _still_ not being fuckin' _clear_ , idiot Sosuke."

"According to Manter, I'm going to die."

" _You_?" she echoed with a startled expression, honestly not expecting that, an abrupt stabbing sensation hitting her hard, without her permission, at the mere thought of it, before she let out an incredulous laugh, derision and disbelief upon her features "Fuckin' _impossible_."

"My thoughts exactly," he nodded before pausing briefly "Only after a little reflexion, _there is_ only one thing that can destroy me, destroy all of us."

"Ah," uttered Doll with faintly wide, uneasy eyes, quick to follow his train of thought " _That_. It's the only real thing that can fuckin' wipe us out, true. But I thought that _that_ Family were the only ones able to wield it. They were wiped out long ago. Except if..."

"The few that remained and went into hiding are _still_ out there," completed Aizen logically "If there _are_ any alive today, then it truly means that the Box of Bedlam _will_ open again."

A sole thin magenta eyebrow arched with curiosity, picking up on something the other had yet to say: "Why do I fuckin' feel like there's a very small ' _unless'_ at the end of your sentence?"

Moving away from the window in order to face her again, the child of chaos stated slowly, slightly in doubt but definitely adamant about him succeeding whatever this was: "My project involves playing on a _very slim_ variable that _could_ be bent to our advantage... _if_ done right."

"And what is _it_ that you intend to do?" she pressed on insistently as she leaned forwards from where she was seated, interested in what the other had in mind. This really _had_ to be good...

As the immortal meticulously exposed to her the full details of what he had planned, a part of Doll's mind disconnected temporarily as she took advantage of the moment to gaze at Aizen.

She wasn't one to sneak glances and she preferred to be incensed when facing him head on, so on the rare occasions they were just talking like this, she'd let herself _really_ look at him.

Even in a form that wasn't his, the child of chaos - with his short dark brown hair slicken back and fully revealing his eyes - seemed to endlessly exude his cruel and constant charisma, no matter what he wore. Here, despite being clad in a casual attire which consisted of white dress shoes, black trousers and a navy dark half-way buttoned shirt, and with nothing else to flaunt in a lurid manner, the immortal still managed to look like the ruler of every single world within the entire universe. However, his laidback attire did not match the blasé attitude he repeatedly tried to preserve when in front of her. Though composed more often than not, only she had the full capacity to derail him. _Completely_.

"So, what do you think?" inquired Aizen all of a sudden with a raised eyebrow, wondering, given Doll's vacant air, if she was even listening to him.

But though her mind had wandered, she was still fully on track, as she voiced her firm opinion in all straight seriousness: "That you're a fuckin' control freak, in _every_ sense of the notion."

"A little of that, but this also what tedium leads me to," confessed the child of chaos openly with an amused chuckle, before he sighed vividly "I'm in constant _need_ of entertainment."

"Even at the cost of your own life?" pried Doll lightly, expression impassive and seemingly uncaring, despite the fact that she was actually quite concerned by the lack of apprehension he accorded when it came to his own existence.

Not grasping her words as pronounced worry given that she had purposely made it invisible, the immortal appeared to be genuinely puzzled by her question: "And _where_ would the fun be if I didn't risk it?"

"Oh, yes. I get it now," she nodded, snapping her fingers with an apparent spark of insight, before immediately after that pointing at the other with a highly exasperated expression upon her features "You're just fuckin' bonkers. You need help."

Scoffing haughtily, Aizen smirked patronizingly: "I'm a deity of chaos. I don't need help."

"No. Of _course_ you don't. Why the fuck _would_ you?" inquired Doll rhetorically, cynically, before casting the immortal a mocking look "You should have been born a Child of Pride."

Grimacing with loathing at the mere thought, the other muttered via tightly clenched teeth: " _Never_ for the life of me."

Doll quietly stared at the other with a faint frown, lips pursed thoughtfully. Although his plan was well-structured and definitely well-thought, the immortal's reasons for carrying all this out seemed...too mundane, too simple. There was _unquestionably_ something else at play here.

Though she knew that if he didn't mention it that he would not talk about it, she took a chance anyway: "Why go so far? I mean, you're not doing all this _just_ for fun. Not even fuckin' vengeance would cut it, despite what you've said now. What are you really up to, Sosuke?"

Rather than answering, the child of chaos yet again moved to where she was and, kneeling in front of her and taking a gentle hold of one of her hands, he raised it to his lips, letting them brush her knuckles, while locking his eyes with hers and speaking in a soft, solemn voice as he asked: "Can I ask for your help, just one more time, my lovely Doll?"

Large magenta eyes blinking repetitively, she parted her lips faintly, slightly disorientated and flustered by the other's actions, while also being overall surprised by his words as she slowly freed her hand, using it to gesture to herself, fingers spread out elegantly as she did so: " _My_ help?"

Overlooking her stunned expression, he promptly pushed on before she could voice any refusal: "All I'm asking, is for you, using any means necessary, to push them in wrong direction - the one concerned especially - from where you stand on the side-lines as you usually do. The major work, I'll leave to the Twilights - I actually have to lay things down to them as soon as possible, right after this, even. With all that done, I'll deal with the rest."

"Oh, so simple," commented Doll sweetly with a pretty smile, before it was swiftly gone the next second, leaving room to a hardened expression as she looked down on him conceitedly "But tell me, _dear_ , what's fuckin' in it for me?"

"When it's all over, you're free to leave and, if you wish it, never return," he declared solidly, causing her jaw to drop on its own accord as absolute astonishment overtook her features.

Recovering just barely and still in utter disbelief, she bit her lip in a manner that conveyed her glee, wide glittering eyes alit with a million lights: "Oooh, now **_that_** is _tempting_."

There was a fair level of sincerity amidst the agony in his gaze - which never once left hers - that couldn't be mistaken for deceit. However, though his ever-present pain did not quite move her, because of it, she couldn't actually trust that his offer was something authentic. Not because that she in any way doubted his words - he did not lie - but rather she doubted he would _actually_ be _able_ of upholding them in the end. Not with her being carefully locked up under his watchful eye after _so_ long. ' _Protected_ ', according to him. Silly man.

So it really seemed too good to be true to her, and yet, pure freedom but a breath away, Doll was willing to do anything to obtain it, no matter the cost: "This better fuckin' be the last time I help you then."

Slow to get to his feet, the immortal gently leaned his face into hers, their foreheads touching: "I swear to you, if this does work, it will be. I'll _never_ ask anything of you ever again."

As he closed his eyes and pulled away, ready to give her space in spite of him being quite comfortable where he was, she quickly followed, hopping off the desk and swiftly catching his sleeve, which instantly halted him. Turning towards her, the child of chaos met Doll's wide eyes, swirling with such a vast array of emotions that he found it hard to label them all: Anticipation. Apprehension. Annoyance. Aggravation... Anguish? Agony? He wasn't sure, nor could he discern more for she was fast to hide it all behind her shields again, as quick as they had fallen.

"And you'll _really_ let me go?" she whispered softly, eyebrows raised but expression no longer giving anything away "Let me leave?"

When he nodded at her without a single hint of hesitation, her eyes widened even further as the hand holding him fell to her side, before she spoke up again, her tone a little playful: "No matter how much it _pains_ you? You can't fuckin' possibly love me _that_ much, can you?"

Regardless of the faint angst anchored within his features, his next words were so cutting that she felt as though her air supply had been brutally cut off, and what was left of her already wrecked heart shattered, any dark humour gone with the wind: "You're certainly correct on that, my dear. I cannot love."

Ah. _There_ it was. What pained her to hear, what she couldn't accept, what she _refused_ to excuse, what she hated _the most_. The persistent, near stubborn denial that he would constantly enshroud himself in, rejecting all acknowledgment of what was flagrantly real, only unless it benefited him or involved him in some way. Why he truly did so was a mystery to her, but it enraged and offended her beyond compare. And though she wasn't supposed to care, she _did_.

Bangs shading her eyes, teeth clenched, deeply vexed, Doll wordlessly turned her back on him, a faint, unseen quiver to her rigid frame. She had to do something, _had_ to say something. He wouldn't be alone to close their conversation with such an excruciating stab to the soul.

 _'Hurt him like he hurts you, and, if you can, **more**_ , _'_ a faint voice echoed all of a sudden from somewhere deep within her head. Without a second thought, she freely gave into that impulse.

"Sosuke", she uttered softly, her quiet tone just a whisper, but a dark and near deadly one.

Sensing that something was amiss, Aizen chose to tread prudently, voice gentle: "Yes, Doll?"

"Did you think of me? When you were... _wherever_ you were, did you think of me?" she asked calmly, tone sounding nearly hopeful, features hidden from him as she kept the same position.

Dark brown eyes softened genuinely at that, holding an atypical warmth to them: "Always."

"Not me," she lied aloud without regret, cold-heartedly pouring every single ounce of her hurt tightly mingled with hatred into her words filled with make-believe, with every intent to burn "I had forgotten _all_ about you, hadn't you decided to show up and fuckin' ruin my day."

Though Aizen did indeed feel the stab she was attempting to administer, she didn't turn to check, swiftly walking off instead, with her high heels clicking loudly as she went, her long hair swaying as she moved. Reaching the door, she pried it open before then pausing in her movements. Another vicious idea had sprung into her out of control mind. And it was _perfect_.

"Oh, and one more thing," she uttered with sickening sugariness as she turned sideways slow, baring her face but still not looking at him, revealing to the other a rather cruel look, a thin mean smile to her lips "Tsukiyomi-sama came over once or twice - maybe _more_ , not that sure - during your _long_ absence. Just let nasty thoughts imagine the worst, ok, _love_?"

Aware that riling him was a strategy amidst many she had at her disposal as she carried out her personal vendetta on him, Aizen knew that she'd try and anger him in some way, in _any_ way, and, knowing what would surely follow should he fall into her ploy, he had attempted to restrain himself as much as possible during their entire faceoff, despite all she had made him endure. But it all came crashing down with the deliberate mention of _that_ name.

Dark brown eyes narrowing with a sudden violent anger, his jaw tightened menacingly but Aizen didn't utter a word, nor did he move, as she marched straight out the room, slamming the door behind her without a single glance back.

After a rather long moment of dead silence, the immortal then exhaled long and deep through his nose as he closed his eyes and placed a shaking hand over them, desperately attempting to repress the raising sense of rage she had now loaded up within him, to no avail. Too much exposure to her left him infected, contaminated by her anger. Doll always, _always_ , eventually in time, managed to ruin him, _entirely_ , and yet, he could not pull away no matter what he did. And neither could she.

But their problem was that neither of the two were honest about this chaotic relationship they had: after a certain incident which befell long ago, quite some time after the two had come to terms with their many differences and had actually gotten closer, she had ended up closing herself to him and began fiercely denying that she harboured anything for him given that she _could_ lie, and as he _couldn't_ lie, he never, _never_ , worded what he genuinely felt towards her. He himself not grasping it, given its contradiction with his origins. He was a being _incapable_ of love, and despite that, he was painfully aware that he could not exist without her. With that reality, he assumed that whatever that he felt was perhaps _akin_ to love, albeit _very_ close to it.

But all that aside, the undisputable truth was this: It was a curse to desire the one and only person, you _know_ you should not have. Particularly when you know that they will do _anything_ in their capacity to _never_ surrender their heart. And here, he wasn't implying it coming solely from her end **(2)**.

Letting out a deep erratic breath, Aizen moved sharply, attempting to quell his thoughts as he'd have company soon, and being angry wouldn't be a good thing. For _them_ mostly that is.

Walking to centre of the room, he bent down to pick up the velvet box from before that Doll had tactlessly left behind her, when he abruptly halted in his movements, lips parting slightly.

Before he had any real time to ponder further, his attention all of a sudden shifted when a soft knock touched the door, leading him to make his way back to his desk, voice composed, swiftly coercing himself back into character: "Come in, boys."

The door promptly opened upon his permission, revealing the dominatrix blonde from before, accompanied by two other young men, mainly similar in build, one with smooth toffee skin, short slightly unkempt black hair with pointed bangs here and there, pale blue eyes, features poised, and the other with slightly pale skin, several piercings upon his ears, bright red hair styled into an outrageous Mohawk, bright amber eyes, features painted with waywardness.

While they all mainly exuded apathy, smugness, vanity, mercilessness and depravity - within different levels according to each one of their personalities - the three young men made their way in, eyeing Aizen deferentially, the only one they were entirely ready to heed to his every command, his every whim, willing to let him completely lord over them. With _no one_ else having the right to.

Bowing their heads towards him with graceful gestures, pretty wicked smiles to their lips, eyes dancing with malevolent mirth and malice, they respectfully enquired in chorus: "You called, Suzuki-sama?"

"Indeed I did. Well then, my precious Twilights, there's something I'd like you to do for me," smirked the child of chaos, darkly reflecting the danger the others were willing to embrace, all while setting upon the desk the once full box empty and bare, the necklace nowhere near it...

000000000000000000000000000000000000

A faintly warm breeze brushed against Ichigo's cheeks, but it didn't do anything to dispel the cold sensation that had gripped at him, a sweat breaking upon his brow, his brown eyes wide.

After fully leaving Karakura and entering the mostly bleak, boding evil place with a post-apocalyptic air known as Karigura, Ulquiorra had dutifully lugged the Shinigami Substitute, the former Arrancar and the Kuchiki noble over to the place he had been assigned to bring them to. And they were now standing right in front of it, silent and contemplative, brown and silver grey eyes tense, both scanning the reached location.

Overall, it was a nice-ish sort of place upon first glance, a cosmic contrast to what surrounded it, but the longer they looked at it, the more they found themselves utterly unable to look away. Except that it was not out of awe, but rather out of dread instead, for there seemed to be a subtle and soft caveat of a whisper uttering: _'Turn around and back away. Get in, and you'll never leave.'_

Beyond the black railings majestically guarding the vast green grounds within it, stood a large white manor of imposing stature, with black terracotta roofs and big dark opaque windows. Aside from the main road within that led right to the manor itself, multiple rock-strewn paths cut through the green spaces, heading beyond a fair number of tall trees and evenly cut hedges of white, red and artificial blue rosebushes, hiding whatever was in these eerie, thinly fog-veiled grounds.

It was all immaculate and exuded pristine perfection, and the noble really didn't know why but it felt as if the whole place was practically screaming out the name Aizen. _Pretty_ loudly.

Point in fact, the dead give-away to that notion was that this manor held a certain resemblance to the fortress the immortal owned in Las Noches, only more modernized yet still as eccentric.

But, that wasn't what unsettled the teen the most. What bothered _him_ , apart from the intense feel of a sinister atmosphere seeping throughout the grounds, was the name written in bold black letters upon the golden plate fastened onto one of the pillars adjoined to the entry gates.

Roughly around two to three years ago, back when young Ichigo was out grudgingly fighting in the streets, Karigura was a neighbouring town well known amongst thugs and street rats, the haven of sin, according to those who'd whisper about it, where only a few went - whether willingly or not - and even fewer returned, unless one unfortunately lived there to begin with.

And of all the places within it, there was one in particular which some would cower upon the mere the mention of it. Whereas others would use it as a threat, the latter fuelled with all the ominous rumours revolving around that given location.

 _'Heh. I'd watch out if I were you,'_ they would say, sneering, eyes sinister, aiming this warning at those who were either too spirited, too good-looking or simply too shifty _'One day, if you're not careful, you might just get swallowed whole by...'_

" _Débauche_ ," he whispered inaudibly, the chill still within him growing even colder, obdurate.

Discretely staring until now at Grimmjow whose expression was completely indecipherable, Byakuya's focus shifted towards the young orange-haired beside him, having caught his quiet voice but not on to his words: "What did you say, Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Not expected to be heard and not knowing how to elaborate on what he knew and really hoped to be mistaken about, the teen shook his head, eyes lowered: "I didn't say anything."

Both the noble and the feline eyed Ichigo in silence, sensing his tension, but understandingly not pushing the subject further. Not that they could have if they wanted to, for the dark-haired Espada moved again, clearly aiming to get this over with.

The four slid in, not bothering to make use of the entrance since they were capable of phasing through - besides, the place _was_ creepy enough hence no need to add ghostly-like activities to the nearby human eye - and progressively made their way to the manor erected proudly in the middle of the grounds, before halting at the entryway.

No sooner had they set foot upon the last stair of the doorstep, the entrance opened promptly, as if reacting in response to their presence, and Ichigo and the other two instantly stiffened upon seeing who it was that came to greet them upon the front porch, unable to confuse her with someone else despite the fact that her attire was very unlike what they have already seen.

Clothed in a sparkling blue tight-fitted and revealing gown, blood lips, her long hair loose, with her mismatched eyes, of the same colour but of a dissimilar shade, there was no mistake.

"So you have made it," stated Manter smoothly, her entire demeanour gleaming with conceit and contempt as she looked down on them, her long black nails clicking against each other "I _would_ welcome you, but given that you are not here as guests, I hardly deem that necessary."

Dismissing the instant agitation and loathing flashing in their eyes, unnaturally mismatched blue eyes flew to meet dark emerald ones: "Thank you for your assistance, Schiffer-sama."

Bowing his head to her, the Cuatro Espada spoke reverently: "My greetings to Aizen-sama."

As the witch nodded with a smile and Ulquiorra began walking away, Ichigo frowned, brown eyes following the other as he went: "You're leaving?"

"I have nothing to do here."

His impassively said words, though simple and straight, stung further than they should have.

They brought back to mind what was assuredly in store for the three of them from now on, and it only served to bring down Ichigo more, recoiling as though he had been hit before he lowered his eyes, expression dimming: "O-Oh yeah. I guess not."

Seeing the other in such a state affected his atypical apathy further than it should have, for the dark-haired Espada found himself reaching out to the Shinigami Substitute, features softening as he gently touched his shoulder: "Though it may not be easy, take care, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Effortlessly disregarding the bewildered look the teenager was giving him, Ulquiorra then locked his eyes with Grimmjow who steadily held the former's gaze, an ambiguous message being wordlessly exchanged between them.

Whatever it was, the feline, seconds later, simply looked away and shrugged nonchalantly, but not without - as Manter sharply observed - nodding his head once in a subtle manner.

"Shall we?" intervened the witch with a smile, choosing to ignore for the moment whatever she had just been a witness to, her head tilted towards whatever it was that lay awaiting them.

As they trio reluctantly followed Manter inside the manor, none of them saw that, rather than opening a Garganta to go back to the Hueco Mundo, Ulquiorra sonido-ed away, heading for Karakura instead...

Inside, it was easy to point out that the interior was just as spick and span as the exterior was.

Appearing even grander and larger than from the outside, entering the manor left one standing straight within a vast hall of cream coloured walls, the windows framed by silver silk curtains.

The decorations weren't much or many, but they were quite noteworthy: a couple of sinister paintings upon the walls, utterly uncanny for they held no meaning, black uneven stains upon a vivid, white background, each image of the same theme but of a different fashion; a few porcelain vases, holding roses from the outside gardens, were upon Greek-styled tables, each on the sides of two of the great hall's other openings, one on the very left and the other on the very right, which both led to long, candlelit corridors, and after that, up the facing wall, a set of two staircases - with black banisters and column-like railings - leading up to yet another opening with never-ending corridor.

From the grey patterned ceiling hung down a large crystal chandelier, shining bright, and the squeaky clean floor was marked out by polished black and white checkerboard tiles, with a slight glass-like effect to it, allowing one to distinguish their reflection quite clearly enough.

To Ichigo, as he looked around tensely, agitatedly, restlessly, the manor's whole atmosphere was unsettling, for it felt _very_ unfriendly, giving off rather uninviting and unwelcoming vibes.

It was that feeling one gets when setting foot in a place for the very first time and they just _know_ that there's something off, something _very_ wrong with the place, only they have no idea _what_ it is nor can they explain it? That was _precisely_ what he was going through, and it was even worse than the one he had experienced upon realizing the name held by this manor.

While Grimmjow looked pretty bored, near uninterested, and Byakuya seemed disconcerted as he stared around in muted silence, the witch was looking left and right as if searching for someone, frowning when she didn't locate that person, the foyer predominantly vacant.

"Where is Aizen-sama?" she voiced aloud to herself, an eyebrow raised questioningly "He should be here already. I sent for him awhile ago."

"I wouldn't quite count on it, unfortunately," a soft voice uttered, drawing their attention to a young girl with blue hair and gentle amber eyes cast downwards, clearly afraid of the witch as she cowered where she was, in her corner at the receptionist's desk, on the far left of the hall.

"I heard he was with Doll, my lady," she carried on, voice even quieter now that she had their focus all upon her "If that's really the case, he wouldn't want to see anyone for a while, as per usual. She tends to leave him a little out of it."

She paused as her amber eyes flitted behind the group, to corridor on the right: "That and he should be seeing the Twilights soon, my lady."

True to the girl's word, Manter looked behind just in time to glimpse the Twilights walk down that very corridor, while sensing Aizen's presence in his quarters, Doll still there with him...

"Yes, I see. Let's give him a little time to cool down then," she conceded quietly, before she then smirked knowingly "The Twilights should be more than able to accomplish that," her mismatched eyes then flitted over to the amber-eyed receptionist "Well, since _you_ are here, would you be a good girl and take care of them instead?"

The girl instantly nodded, standing up, rounding the desk and then bowing formally: "I will, my lady."

"Excellent. I'll leave it to you then," the witch smiled widely before she glanced at the trio, her cruel eyes locking specifically with Byakuya's and Grimmjow's as she stated ominously "I know what is upon your minds. You plan on finding a way out as soon as you can. Make no mistake. Not only are you wagering upon the safety of your loved ones, but initially you utterly ceased to be the day you lost the war to Aizen-sama on the battlefield, and you are now but bodies at his disposal. And you will be nothing else. There is no getaway for you. Be grateful that you have been given a purpose worthy of your pathetic, insignificant existence."

Dark grey eyes narrowed at her words, translating a resentment they were hesitant to utter. Grimmjow, however, had _no_ such problem conveying it, using embittered sarcasm rather than exploding out in a fit of darkened rage: " _Really_ trying to feel the fuckin' gratitude here..." he paused for effect with a pondering look before sneering "Nah, I've got _nothing_."

"Uproarious," Manter grinned, not at all offended, before she sauntered off, flicking the three males off with a graceful gesture of her hand "Walk on with Leona-sama. I entrust you to her care, but I should warn you against trying anything. It will _not_ be to your benefit."

As the witch went down the corridor on the right, the young girl gestured for the three males to follow her up one of the staircases, which they did, not really seeing another alternative.

After a moment of silence, she looked at them curiously from over her shoulder, addressing them tentatively: "You...seem friendly enough."

" _Do_ we?" sneered the former Arrancar mockingly with a feral expression, bringing his fierce side out blatantly as he leaned into her space, but the girl didn't even flinch, not deterred a bit.

"Better than most," she admitted genuinely taking the feline aback by her lack of trepidation, before she bit her lip apologetically "I'd welcome you, but..."

"Please, _don't_ ," breathed out Byakuya in a strained whisper as he closed his eyes, shuddering subtly while the others stayed quiet as they walked on within the seemingly endless corridor.

Given what had been planned for the three of them, despite the child of chaos not yet stating it explicitly, with all the hints that had been spoken. No need to be constantly reminded...

"I'm Leona," she said softly with a small smile, introducing herself in an attempt to change the subject as she clearly saw their depression and distress "And you?"

"Kurosaki I-" began the teenager automatically, but didn't finish when he saw the girl panic.

"No, no," she voiced quickly, swiftly reaching out to set her fingers hovering over the orange-haired teen's lips, not touching but with the intent on halting "Don't give me your _real_ name."

"Why not?" asked the Shinigami Substitute in confusion and slight curiosity - which was equally shared with the Kuchiki noble - while Leona let her hand drop back to her side.

"We don't- We don't get to use our actual names here," said the amber-eyed girl, eyes wide, head tilted for she was surprised by their unawareness "Didn't Suzuki-sama...tag you yet?"

"Suzuki-sama?" echoed the noble incredulously, the name odd to him whereas Grimmjow just rolled his eyes, and no one noticed Ichigo paling in complete horror as Byakuya asked on " _Tag_ us?"

"Getting an appellation," she replied, distractedly touching the bracelet upon her wrist, oddly similar to theirs, only hers had her 'name' engraved into it, spelling ' _Le-o-na_ ' in Romanji.

Byakuya immediately frowned with distaste: "Wouldn't that _appellation_ be more suitable for animals instead? Or maybe even objects?"

Blinking with a blank expression, she then glanced elsewhere as she answered heavily: "Let's just say, given the fact that we've been...reduced to less than human beings... Well..."

She didn't dare continue, and she quite frankly didn't need to: what was left unsaid, was clear.

"Ah," uttered the noble slowly, frankly not knowing what else to say, or think for that matter.

"Yeah," she smiled uneasily, before peaking at them beneath her long eyelashes "So...No way to call you then?"

For a beat, she was met with silence, until the former Arrancar spoke up, tone of voice distant: "Last time I was here, I was given one, and I'm guessing that it won't fuckin' change."

"You've been here before?" she asked with a tilt of her head, seeming genuinely surprised as she stared intently at the feline's face, as if trying to recognize him "We've never met, no?"

"I wasn't fuckin' flaunted," revealed Grimmjow stiffly, speaking charades that went beyond the noble and the teen's grasp, yet neither inquired on the feline's words, not quite having the strength to be that curious anyway.

Amber eyes widened, as first in surprise then in understanding, before she was quick to lower them considerately: "I see."

Leona was about to add something else but she abruptly cut herself off when an unannounced figure, a blur of black and red, came of absolutely nowhere and collided straight with Ichigo's back, which sent the unidentified person crashing to the floor in a messy, graceless heap.

"I'm sorry!" gasped out the teenager apologetically as he glanced over his shoulder and then rushed to help, holding out his hand "Are you alright?"

The person, a young girl, hardly older than Leona, with bright magenta hair in pigtails, barely registered the outstretched hand, eyes scrunched closed. Getting up to her feet on her own, she rubbed the back of head, wincing a little, before she spoke up calmly, her tone childlike, but also chillingly void: "Why are _you_ apologizing? That should be my line. I'm the one who bumped into y-"

As she slowly opened her eyes to apologize head on, the magenta-haired girl suddenly froze, locking wide eyes on the Shinigami Substitute, her jaw dropping, disbelief all over her face: "K- _Koshiba_?!"

"Huh?" was all the confounded teen could utter, honestly having _no idea_ what this girl was saying, everyone else just as confused.

Rendered mute by shock, she could only stare, half-amazed, half-aghast. And then, on sudden impulse, she slowly, carefully reached out, fingers splayed, as though she wished to make sure that the boy in front of her was real, and not a mere illusion.

The former Arrancar watched the girl with extreme awareness. Though appearing harmless, there was _something_ about her that was rather... _deadly_ , undeniably dangerous.

Even Ichigo apparently shared a similar opinion, for he pulled back a step as her hand drew closer, strongly wary of her, but not knowing why.

Witnessing the teenager's distress seemed to wake her up, for she quickly retrieved her hand, holding it to her chest, lowering her eyes as she started to walk away, muttering: "S-Sorry, I... I confused you with someone else," her magenta eyes briefly met amber ones "Leona."

"Doll-dana **(3)** ," replied the amber-eyed girl instantly, swiftly assuming the same deference she had demonstrated for Manter, bowing low as the other hastily passed her by, speed-walking down the hallway.

Sharing the same vigilance as his two companions, Byakuya stared on at the retreating figure vanishing out of sight as if she had never been there: "Who was that?"

The blue-haired girl bit her lip, while shaking her head in apology: "It isn't my place to tell. But it's best that you know this. She's very, _very_ important here. I really can't say more."

Frowning with curiosity and slight confusion while the former Arrancar trudged after Leona who began moving again, the Kuchiki noble sighed at the many secrets that appeared adamant on prevailing around him. He too was about the follow, when he noticed that the young orange-haired hadn't moved at all, and one look at him was enough to make him worried.

"Jeagerjaques," called out the noble softly, urgently, gaining the feline's immediate attention, and he was quick to furrow his eyebrows in equal concern.

Ichigo was pale as a sheet, rigid where he stood, a deep frown marring his brow, eyes vacant.

"Are you ok, kid?" asked Leona worriedly, coming back on her steps and gently touching the teen's shoulder, which only served to startle him badly right out of whatever trance he was in.

"What?" he uttered, colours gradually merging back with his features though he still stayed visibly shaken "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't fuckin' _look_ it," stressed out Grimmjow as he eyed the teen with full scepticism.

"I'm _fine_ , guys," insisted the Shinigami Substitute with clenched teeth while scowling deep, quick to wave off the others' concern.

Though the noble and feline were being spot on, as Ichigo was everything but. Ever since he had set foot Karigura, he had felt on edge, but now, he was downright unwell, as if he was sick. And this was something on a very different wavelength than the one his predicament as Aizen's captive constantly drew from him. It had somehow grown further intense and even worse barely seconds ago. And his tense and overwrought mind couldn't determine the cause.

Wordlessly considering the orange-haired boy for a moment, Leona then pointed to one of the many doors in the corridor, speaking up gently: "We'll stop here first. You'll find me waiting for you when you've finished."

They absentmindedly nodded to her, before mechanically going over to make their way in, before instantly halting in their steps right after crossing the entrance, their eyes going wide.

"Why are _you_ here?" exclaimed Ichigo, his tone near accusing as he pointed a finger at the man - creature? - waiting casually inside with crossed arms, folded over his white-clad frame.

In a sparkling clean, yet dim-lit place, that looked very much like a hospital room straight out from a horror movie, Szayel Apporo Grantz stood in the centre, golden eyes glittering.

"I'm here because Aizen-sama wanted me here," he informed lightly, a wide amused smile to his lips "Don't worry. Once I'm done, I'll be out of your hair."

The Shinigami Substitute scowled even deeper, even _less_ at ease than before. So much for things eventually getting better at some point.

Not only had he had to deal with him when he held captive back in the Soul Society **(4)** , Ichigo had also heard of this guy from Renji - no other Espada had pink hair - and according to him, he was **_bad_** news, a fact solidly supported by the Quincy. Even Grimmjow currently seemed to be eying the Octavo with a lethal level of animosity. So that was _really_ saying something.

Smirking at their faces, Szayel then began to speak animatedly, overflowing with eccentric enthusiasm: " _Anyways_ , I was given an incredibly ingenious and insidious invention lately, which I'm to try out on you. And I'm quite eager about it I might add."

Finishing his words with a dramatic flourish had the three males sweat dropping, with Ichigo commenting under his breath: "That's not _very_ reassuring to hear."

Giddily making his way to a corner whilst making sure that he was being watched, the mad Espada scientist took hold of a single large white sheet covering multiple masses of _something_ set upon examination stands, and then pulled it off with a single tug: "Take a look at _these_."

Expecting the worst, Ichigo and the other two were stock still, until they set eyes on what was hidden beneath, not sure what they were looking at, and yet, they _did_ have a slim hunch.

"Are those...Gigai?" asked Byakuya uncertainly as he stared at the bodies just lying there, inert, faceless, formless, lifeless.

"Not exactly, but good eye," remarked the Octavo with a nod, languidly tracing one of the bodies' empty face "Inspired by them, these are more advanced versions, more... Let's say 'precise', shall we? Given that, the transferral method is something that Aizen-sama masters, absolute accuracy can be the only result."

" _Of course_ ," snorted Grimmjow derisively, rolling of his eyes, which Szayel chose to ignore.

"Now then, if you don't mind, I'll have to examine the state of your souls," stated the Octavo excitedly, a sick, broad smile to his lips as he reached out for the three before him, fingers wriggling around eagerly like two white spiders heading for their prey, leading both Ichigo and Byakuya to take a cautionary step back at the disturbing sight.

" _I_ mind," gritted out the feline dangerously, whilst swiftly smacking away the other's hands, blue eyes narrowing in warning "Don't fuckin' touch me, Szayel."

"Grimmjow, Grimmjow, don't be like that," cooed the pink-haired Espada with a sickly sweet tone, which made the other occupants in the room cringe "The sooner I finish, the quicker it'll be over. It's not like you're unconscious and all by yourself, alone with me, aren't you?"

As he giggled scathingly, the feline stayed silent as he turned an unhealthy shade, somewhere between pale green and blue, likely out of some kind of revulsion, leading the Shinigami Substitute to inquire gently, concerned and somewhat curious: "What is he talking about?"

"Fuckin' psycho over here had a bad habit of experimenting on _everyone_ back when I was an Espada. When we were out cold and in his lab - normally there for _HEALING_ \- he'd fuckin' take full advantage of that. We'd fuckin' wake up and find ourselves with missing or replaced organs, filled with microscopic bombs, bloody cameras and I-don't-know-what-the-shit-else," ranted the feline heatedly, before he then pointed accusingly at his own face, aiming for the beautiful panther-like markings underneath his eyes "I forgot to add fuckin' insane physical alterations. These were never my fuckin' doing."

"Really?" uttered Ichigo, taken aback as he stared at them, before he complimented candidly "They suit you. Can't imagine you without them actually."

Not expecting for what he deemed scars to be appreciated, it took a moment for the former Arrancar to answer, fairly stunned and barely able to cover it: "Tch. Whatever."

"Oh, yes! It's all coming back to me," exclaimed Szayel after feigning to have forgotten until now, before he sighed dreamily "Good times."

Blue eyes narrowed severely, filled with undisguised loathing: "Fuckin' sick son of a bitch."

"That's... _invasive_ ," uttered the orange-haired teen with a shudder, before he hurriedly recoiled when the pink-haired Espada leaned into his personal space, grinning.

"I'm _all_ about invasion. You should see my _Gabriel Renaissance_ technique **(5)**."

Somehow, the teenager had a strong inkling that accepting was most likely the worst option: "Uh, no, thank you."

"Your loss," shrugged Szayel easily, before he rubbed his hands together, eyes glinting "So, boys...shall we get this over with?"

Reluctantly, they allowed the Espada to look them over one by one, getting in close to check their vitals and reiatsu fluctuations, the latter still restricted by the bracelets on their wrists **(6)**.

The mad scientist prodded on invasively with attentiveness, brow furrowed in concentration as he considered them thoroughly, critically in detail. He then nodded - apparently to himself - before he then eagerly orientated them towards the corpses with the semblance of a gigai.

Again, they found themselves following his directives along with extreme disinclination, but they did not refuse, not really having an actual choice in the matter anyway, with the scary witch's earlier words of warning keeping them mostly in check.

However, when Szayel happily announced that he was going to merge them with these _things_ , Grimmjow remained put where he stood while Byakuya and Ichigo pulled away with disgust.

No way.

"Come _on_!" urged the Espada insistently, before sighing when none of the three would budge "And here we were getting on _so_ nicely. Look, it's not _that_ bad - not like I would really know, never had to do it. Don't you rather get this over with, hm? Besides, you wouldn't want any inane defiance to have repercussions, _do_ _you_?"

Though he spoke with false gentleness, the last sentence was quite clearly a laden threat: _'let's do this now, or else I'll go see Aizen-sama about your disobedience'_.

The teenager scowled in silent fury but surrendered swiftly, moving over along with the feline, whereas the noble, infuriated, hesitated a little longer, only to eventually follow suit.

" _Not_ a fuckin' word," warned the former Arrancar viciously, cutting off whatever it was that the pink-haired Octavo had been about to snidely say, a sinister smirk to his lips.

Pouting faintly, Szayel quickly brushed it off in favour of clearing up what they were to do next. And it was quite simple in fact, if not absolutely repulsive in Byakuya's opinion and downright disturbing from Ichigo's point of view. All the three captives had to do, was to lie down on top of the 'bodies', and given their own presently intangible forms, they'd phase straight through. The corpses would then do all the rest, confining them inside after fusion...

The process was, fortunately enough, not painful, yet it stayed quite unpleasant and was _not_ something they'd _ever_ want to do again.

Being in a momentary state of inertia and darkness right after they phased into the 'bodies', the latter, during the merge, shifted and efficiently adapted to the soul they now contained, the features slowly marking themselves along the faceless craniums, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, hair all flowing out, appropriate colours and shapes forming at a steady pace. Even the accessories and clothes they wore as souls had manifested - an _extreme_ relief to two out of the three.

Grimmjow and Byakuya both gradually, cautiously sat up, testing out their new shells with minor movements, flexing their fingers and steadily raising to their feet, before frowning. Overall, they felt fine, no different than when they were souls. But, there _was_ something odd.

In awe before what had just transpired, the Octavo stared at them in wonder and parted his lips to speak vivaciously when a sudden clatter of metal and a crash of glass resounded aloud.

They all turned to see Ichigo standing but doubled over, a hand gripping tightly for support at a nearby emptied table - its contents now broken on the floor - the other hand clutching at his head, his breathing ragged, his features holding only pain.

Grimmjow anxiously called out to him, but he was not acknowledged, nor heard, as a loud strident, shrill noise was rendering the teen deaf to his surroundings, his eyes clenched closed.

However vague the unnerving sensations the Shinigami Substitute had been overcome with ever since setting foot here, they were _nothing_ compared to how severe they felt now. He was completely overwhelmed by them.

Vivid yet unclear images brutally flared up all of a sudden straight within the teenager's mind, words echoing eerily in a constant loop the whole while, but Ichigo couldn't make them out, too in pain for the next following seconds to focus.

A person letting out chilling screams of fear as their whole body was up in flames, ablaze.

Wild golden eyes encircled by black accompanied by a slasher grin, screeching high hazard.

A man without a face under a thick curtain of darkness, his long claw-like fingers reaching out, bent on drawing out the most dreadful and painful of terrors from those he would touch.

Grey eyes holding nothing but suffering slowly fading to dark and apathetic, cruel, dangerous.

Lips parting slow to let out a silent scream of blistering agony, terrifyingly uncontrolled - with everything shattering to pieces and burning to ashes - as it all swirled around, like a violent, unforgiving sandstorm of fire and crimson lightning and so, _so_ much red.

It was so intense, _so_ vivid that it drew a rather loud gasp from him as he swayed and almost toppled over, had it not been for the feline reacting quickly and catching him before he fell.

Sweating and shivering with an unhealthy pale glow to his skin, Ichigo stuttered out softly, teeth clattering: "I-I d-don't feel...well."

Without hesitation, the former Arrancar swiftly shifted his focus onto the Octavo, promising the latter, under the guise of his deadliest glare, sheer agony if Szayel was somehow liable.

Slightly shaken at first by the look in Grimmjow's eyes, the pink-haired Espada then casually made his way over to the Shinigami Substitute, daintily checking the latter over with an air of deep puzzlement to his features: "Odd. The transfer has no side effects. I wonder... Maybe it's because, originally, you aren't yet dead and you still have a body to call your own. Or not... Perhaps there's another reason. Either way, this is _very_ interesting."

Not yet quite recovered but still aware enough to register the other's elated expression, the teen sent the Octavo a menacing scowl: "Like _hell_ I'm letting you turn me into a guinea pig."

"Oh?" uttered the pink-haired Espada, feigning astonishment whilst the feline smirked, before Szayel sighed in dramatic disappointment "Shame."

Chasing the mad scientist off a low snarl and watching him retreat with a roll of his golden eyes, the blue-haired feline then focused fully on the orange-haired: "You ok?"

"A little," nodded the Shinigami Substitute slightly as he leaned comfortably in Grimmjow's hold, grimacing at the strange sensation that had yet to subside "That was _so_ weird though."

"So? How do you _all_ feel?" asked the Espada expectantly, excitement gnawing at him as he studied them closely, while the feline helped the teenager to his feet, the noble staying put but regarding the youngest amidst them with mild concern.

Flexing his arms and cracking his neck a little, Grimmjow then shrugged: "Nothing at all."

It was true. Apart from Ichigo's temporary wave of unease, the three felt totally normal, as if they were still spirits and not wearing a second skin. In fact, they felt _exactly_ the same, _except_ for one little thing, which they were incapable of distinguishing, but it was definitely there.

"For _now_ you do," declared the Espada mysteriously, eyes glowing with devious malice "I'd tell you of the special traits these darlings have, but I wouldn't want to _spoil_ anything. I'll leave all the fun to Aizen-sama."

As the teen shuddered and the noble glared, the feline narrowed his eyes as he hissed irately: "How fuckin' considerate of you."

"As I always am," smiled Szayel eccentrically as he swayed over to the door, about to gesture for them to take their leave before abruptly pausing, a rather nasty sneer appearing "One thing I _can_ tell you though. You - your souls - are now trapped in these new bodies of yours. And there's _no_ getting out of them. Even if you are to die."

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Ichigo, Grimmjow and Byakuya were on the move once more, but very different than before, at least in a physical sense. Not only were they currently clad in getups they would have _never_ worn under _normal_ circumstances, but their new 'bodies' were also a very drastic change, the factor that had sensed to be different now one they were finally able to put their finger on.

Against their will, they found themselves more aware, more in tune with their surroundings, theirs senses sharper, far too sharp. They felt as though they were now fully hypersensitive and overly responsive to everything that passed them by, especially via their sense of touch.

Speaking of which, after leaving the Octavo Espada, they'd been taken to yet another room, where they had been undressed, washed, redressed, groomed and prepped prior to now. And they had come to notice their current predicament exactly at the start of that very moment.

Though the two who had taken care of them - a pretty sweet mute girl called Millie and a rather aloof yet moody guy named Tora - had been rather swift and brief with their gestures, the trio had felt all too aware of their touch, the presence of it still lingering long after its absence. Even trying to let their minds wander was to no avail, the contact too ever-present to disconnect from.

The passable part about the whole process was that they had been quick and efficient. They hadn't let their hands or eyes wander, sticking to whatever procedure they were edified with.

Though Grimmjow didn't seem too troubled, Ichigo and Byakuya had been quite reluctant to let the two touch them liberally, the noble shying away every once in awhile in discomfort, while the teenager remained rather stiff with a stifling blush of embarrassment.

The touch of another. A feat they were forcefully attempting to get used to. Depending on the person, it wasn't _that_ oppressive, but it was _definitely_ invasive, this imposing intimacy raiding their privacy...

"It's just around the corner now," notified Leona softly as she pointed ahead, mostly startling Ichigo from his thoughts, and leading him to notice that, after tracing their way back down the staircase, they were now walking along the corridor located on the right, the one witch Manter had taken earlier.

"What is?" inquired Byakuya, as he subtly mapped out his surroundings for future reference.

"Suzuki-sama's quarters, which is best not to enter without permis-" she halted midsentence, her breath hitching as her eyes widened in unreserved dread, having taken the corner before the trio and instantly freezing as she stared at whatever stood ahead of her "Oh dear..."

"What's wrong, Leona?" asked the teenager with a frown, sharing a similar expression with the feline and the noble, the young girl's reaction warranting enough reason to be concerned.

It took a moment for her to realize that she had been addressed, and, when she did, she turned to them with a tense expression, her teeth worrying her lower lip: "Ah. Uh...I don't know if you'll be willing to take advice, but, if I were you, I'd _really_ try not getting on _their_ bad side."

Reaching where she was and glancing over to where she had discreetly gestured with a gentle tilt of her head, Ichigo and the other two saw, at the far end after the corner, standing in front of a half-closed door, was their dear captor - owner - dressed in the most human way possible, a broad, sly smirk to lips as he softly chatted away with three young men, their backs to them.

Although the child of chaos appeared to be too engaged within the conversation to allow his attention to wander elsewhere, he had actually picked up on the troupe's presence for awhile now, briefly locking eyes with the girl guiding the trio and nodding at her curtly, a permissive gesture which set her, Ichigo, Grimmjow and Byakuya in motion once more.

"As in?" inquired the Kuchiki, seeking clarification to the amber-eyed girl's previous advice.

"Not _all_ of us are...'welcoming', for lack of a better term," she whispered cautiously, quietly, as though afraid her words might be overheard as they steadily drew closer " _Especially_ them. They're known here as the Twilights. Avoid confronting them if you can... Point in fact, if possible, just avoid them all together."

"They don't look _that_ much of a fuckin' threat," remarked the feline as he regarded them idly.

" _Never_ let looks fool you," warned Leona with a weary sigh, expression slightly dimmer as she said those words, her words of caution managing to make the trio faintly more wary.

Just _who_ the hell were these three guys? Certainly no one more threatening than Aizen... _right_?

"So you're finally here," voiced Aizen, finally locking his dark, ruthless eyes on his captives with a dangerously smooth smile as they stiffly made their way towards him "Welcome."

On cue and in tandem, the three young males beside the child of chaos turned slowly, with grandeur and grace, before staring down at them with supercilious haughtiness.

As soon as their eyes crossed paths, Ichigo, Grimmmjow and Byakuya were set on immediate edge, not because they were in intimidated about these three given individuals dubbed as the Twilights, but because there was something fairly _intimidating_ about _them_ , something near inhuman. Correction. Rather _inhumane_.

That, and with the contempt and conceit, the malice and malign intent, both the menacing lust and loathing, all etched within their otherwise pretty faces, it was safe to say that the trio of captives were entitled to feel uneasy under the Twilights' intense stares.

Ichigo and the other two barely had the time to consider the immortal further as the three males clad in black robbed all their attention, scoffing aloud, in unrestrained derision, while smirking unkindly and narrowing their eyes spitefully at their master's captives. And then, taking slow measured, cat-like steps, they circled them, like predators would do to a prey, while Leona hastily took a step back, moving out of their way, not wanting to get involved.

Gauging them thoroughly, critically, from head to toe, from front to back, the three continued to move wordlessly, silently, around them, between them, causing a very tense and stifling atmosphere in the air, heightening both the teenager's and the noble's already agitated nerves, whereas the feline glared steadily, all three of them solidly holding their ground, while Aizen merely watched on in sheer and utter amusement.

Byakuya was quick to frown in displeasure as one of them - the one with short black hair - delicately wrapped a lock of the shinigami's hair around his gloved fingers before giving it a light tug, which prompted the noble to break from the other's touch, by shaking his hair free with a curt gesture.

And then, right after that, Byakuya found himself jumping out of his skin when another one - this time the one with a Mohawk - brushed the back of his gloved hand down the captain's exposed back, before he pulled away with a snicker when the noble sent him a deadly glare.

It was rather noteworthy to point out that none of Twilights however dared to touch either Grimmjow or Ichigo, getting really, _really_ close but staying clear from coming in any contact with them, a fact barely paid mind to, the trio too under pressure to notice.

Circling back to the Kuchiki with cat-like grace, the young male with long, pale blonde hair - held up in ponytail - leaned into Byakuya's personal space, towering over him a little, staring down at him with scorn and an edge of spite, studying the shinigami captain's stoic features in detail, before tilting his head slightly and biting his lower lip, voice velvety: "Such a _lovely_ face. It makes me wanna-" the blonde paused with purpose, expression conveying an air of desire, of want, before it shifted to vicious vehemence, violence "- _bruise_ it **_black_** and **_blue_**."

Given all the lust the Twilights emanated and obviously represented, Byakuya had been under the distinct impression that he was about to be thrown a lewd comment. Not a violent threat.

Trying hard not to react but thrown off just the same, the Kuchiki noble quickly schooled his stunned features to an aloof expression, but the blonde had seen clearly the chink, which brought a smile to his lips, as he taunted viciously with a charming whisper, eyebrows arching challengingly as his slender, gloved fingers twitched at his side, as if itching to _hit_ : "Should I give it a try?"

Byakuya had to resist a strong urge to take a step back from this young but taller man who simply seemed to yell blaringly danger. But the dark-haired shinigami controlled himself. He had somehow managed to stand his ground when confronting the immortal, and this human will be no different. Frowning faintly to himself, his thoughts paused for a second, a fleeting notion coming to mind. _Were_ the Twilights even human to begin with?

"You'll have your fun later, dear," promised Aizen as he intervened, morbidly amused, and, once he had got the Twilights' undivided attention, he tilted his head "Now, off you three go."

Pouting slightly but in no way resisting, the blonde nodded compliantly, before then leaning in and placing a kiss on the immortal's mouth, gobsmacking the trio with the boldness of the act, not to mention that Aizen _totally_ allowed it, wrapping his arm loosely around the blonde's waist.

Lingering there for a few seconds, the blonde then slowly pulled away with a flirtatious smile, which the child of chaos reacted to with a fleeting wink, before the latter's attention focused on Leona while the Twilights walked away, sneering as they passed by Ichigo and the others.

The amber-eyed girl's stance facing the immortal held in no way the same amount of fear as she had shown when addressing witch Manter or the magenta-haired girl. She was petrified where she stood, paler, meeker, her voice barely audible, a hint of whisper laced with fearful reverence: "Suzuki-sama."

"Thank you for your hard work. You may leave, Leona."

She didn't need to be told twice. Bowing mutely, the amber-eyed girl hastily complied, briefly eyeing the trio apologetically, before then walking off at a quick pace, not once looking back, even overtaking by far the Twilights' steady, unhurried steps.

Pulling his cold gaze from the two retreating parties, the child of chaos stepped aside and wordlessly gestured for the trio to get in, which they did only after a few seconds of hesitance.

Following as they edgily took in their surroundings, the child of chaos had yet to utter a word as he moved, gliding over to a large couch with assured steps, on which he then comfortably seated himself, leaning back and crossing his legs, head tilted in silent contemplation.

Nervously, Ichigo and the other two remained standing - having not been invited to sit - in the centre of the room, one which, quite sincerely, the immortal did _not_ fit in. It was too... _human_.

Also, there was _something_ different about Aizen, and it wasn't simply his humanized attire.

"Well, well, aren't you all pretty?" taunted the immortal suddenly, making a show of eyeing them from head to toe, studying each detail critically, purposely making them uncomfortable.

The child of chaos wasn't lying, for they _had_ been dressed to look alluring, enticing, _inviting_ , their attires rather revealing and quite tight against their skin, leaving little to imagination.

While the three of them wore the same tight-fitted navy jeans with matching knee-high leather dark grey boots, along with silver laces, they each had different tops.

Grimmjow had a black jacket with shiny silver studs around the cuffs - which halted over the forearms - on the lapels and on the shoulder pads. With no zip, it hung open, exposing his well-built, tanned chest. As for Ichigo, he wore a dark tank top with a grey fishnet-like ensemble underneath, all long sleeves and collar, the borders rimmed with thick black bands. And in Byakuya's case, he was wearing a sleeveless _and_ backless silver glittered top, thinly attached by two threads - one around his neck, the other round his waist - a peek of his midriff and his hipbones entirely out in the open, to his upmost discomfort.

They were all wearing black gloves, and, other than that, they had no particular accessories, save for the silver bracelets still fastened securely to their - left - wrists, making their way also through the preceding phasing process.

Their hairstyles were kept the same as they had been. The former Arrancar's vivid blue hair was still wild, the Shinigami Substitute's orange spikes still unruly, and the Kuchiki's glossy black locks - of course, completely free of Kenseikan - cascaded loosely down his shoulders.

Delicate but daring make-up touched their features, particularly aloft, the teen, the feline and the noble respectively sporting rich golden, vibrant blue and silver grey eye shadow, which framed their narrowed, dimmed, angry eyes.

And if looks _could_ kill, the captives would have definitely had the ground littered with dead bodies at their feet by now: they were utterly _outraged_ , glaring in resilient silence, Grimmjow and Byakuya more so than Ichigo though, as the latter was far more distraught than angry.

And Aizen sharply picked up on it, looking towards the teenager with cold eyes which in no instance reflected the concern he voiced as he spoke: "Is something wrong, Ichigo?"

In all honesty, Ichigo was fairly naive, at times a little slow, but he was _not_ stupid, far from it.

One: The Twilights' true nature was not lost on him. Their scanty, suggestive clothes were a dead giveaway, as well as their blatant and unabashed mischievous behaviour, despite it being unusually aggressive, violent.

Two: Given _what_ the Twilights were, this place was not lost on him either. If individuals like _those_ were in a place like this, merely an educated guess could pin it down, even though the appellation of the place said it all.

 _Three_ : If the Twilights were what they were and this place was what it was, then _Aizen_ was...

It was a question of pure, basic mathematical logic, as simple as an easy 1 + 2 = 3 equation.

The Shinigami Substitute had hoped, was _still_ hoping that he was wrong, dead wrong, despite everything around him proving to be the opposite. Now, with the truth screeching straight in his face, he was beyond himself with unconditional horror.

"You- You're Z-Zaine Suzuki," whispered the teenager tensely, his mouth dry as he managed to get the name out despite stumbling over his words, brown eyes wide with shock and dread, with the noble eyeing him in confusion whereas the feline stared at him, taken aback.

" _Ho_? So you've heard me," stated the child of chaos with honest surprise, before he raised an eyebrow inquisitively, his smirk now even wider "I'm rather curious as to know _how_."

"On the streets, a couple of years ago," replied Ichigo stiffly, mechanically, before shuddering with a deep, uneasy frown "And not in a good way."

"That I don't doubt," chuckled Aizen ominously before he tilted his head slightly "I suppose that there is even less for me to explain then, hm?"

Despite the increasing apprehension, soft brown narrowed a little further: "Unfortunately."

Dark brown eyes gleaming with predatory malevolence, the immortal's smile was terrifying: " _Good_."

Though his trepidation had a firm grip upon him, the Shinigami Substitute felt a sudden surge of incensed resentment invade him, Aizen's complacency _entirely_ misplaced in his opinion.

Completely out of context, Byakuya furrowed his brow, shifting his attention to the teen as he whispered: "What are you on about?"

"Oh yes, how inconsiderate of me," stated the immortal with raised eyebrows, amusement all over his features as he glanced at the noble before gesturing towards the teen and the feline "You and Grimmjow _might_ know, but Byakuya doesn't. Care to clarify for him?"

All colours drained from Ichigo's face just as promptly as the anger and anxiety evaporated, as he locked wide eyes upon Byakuya's perplexed expression.

At loss for what to say, for where to start, for _how_ to speak of it, the orange-haired teenager glanced pleadingly in the feline's direction for help, who was swift to give it to him, although it came out curt, blunt and taut, his narrowed, hate-filled eyes fixed upon the child of chaos: "This place, called _Débauche_ , hosts fuckin' patrons that come over to fuck the pro- the people working here called ' _dolls'_ , with Aizen as the owner of this fuckin' hellhole."

"How _rude_ ," smirked Aizen darkly, while the Kuchiki paled at the former Arrancar's words "This is a pleasure house of reasonable income, with adequate entertainment, as long as _you_ provide it diligently."

Beyond himself with horror, the noble could clearly see where this was going and never in his life had he felt so humiliated, so horrified, and he had yet to be fully initiated to what was going to follow soon enough. _Nothing_ he went through prior to now could ever compare to what he was feeling currently.

By now, Byakuya had figured that the immortal had readied for them something to diminish them in addition to their utter surrender and helplessness, but this, _this_... This was beyond cruel, beyond evil.

Putting their bodies to the entire disposal of others - of _many_ , surely - merely to satisfy their whims and every desire? And to be _paid for_ _it_? No amount of money in the world could wash away how this was unconditionally immoral, demeaning, unbecoming. And _never_ had he ever thought Aizen capable of inflicting such tormenting affliction and suffering upon someone.

Then again, it wasn't if he knew the other well enough to know what he would or would not do. Still. How much more humiliated _did_ he need them to be for him to be truly satisfied?

 _"What's Aizen's deal anyway? He's won, right?! What more must he do - must he take - for him to be satisfied?! If he ever is!"_ had exclaimed Ichigo vividly at some point **(7)** , and though the noble had certain differences with the Shinigami Substitute, here, he could only agree.

"Sick, twisted, godless beast," seethed the shinigami captain, his tone clipped, fuming "It is not enough that you conquered and defeated us, took us away from our cherished ones, caged us in these bodies, now you want to _exploit_ us?! In this wretched place you have the audacity to call a ' _pleasure house'_?! Haven't you done enough, Aizen Sosuke?!"

As the Kuchiki raged, the child of chaos had meanwhile reached for a glass of water set on the coffee table in front of him, but the faint but striking similarity a part of the noble's sentence had to Doll's, startled Aizen, the glass slipping straight out from his fingers.

 _'It isn't enough that you fuckin' caged me in this body - in this existence - now you want to fuckin' chain me?'_

 _CRASH_!

After some thought, Aizen had previously thought it best to be composed _before_ interacting with his captives, and that's why he had called upon the Twilights' presence, in addition to _having_ to speak to them. After a stressful ordeal with Doll, they had always been good at soothing his raging nerves down, not getting rid of them entirely but succeeding in bringing them down a fair notch.

And as the anger wasn't yet quite gone, it only came back forth tenfold, setting the immortal off dangerously, his dark eyes narrowing to a threatening degree, voice ice, all decorum gone: "In order for us to be on the same page, Byakuya, our roles are no longer and will no longer _ever_ be what they once were. I am to be called Aizen- _sama_ \- or Suzuki-sama, take your pick - and addressed to with reverence. Forget yourself one more time, and I'll have Rukia's tongue cut off and shredded to pieces that you _will_ swallow, should you not desire _worse_ to befall her. Are we clear?"

The threat was brutal, so lacking of the refinement and manipulative stealth usually associated with the immortal, that it left the three of them stunned silent.

The teen was visibly intimidated and shocked into silence, and the noble was far too horrified and deeply perturbed by the contents of the threat to even convey a response. Though both had seen the child of chaos angry on two separate occasions - Byakuya upon interrogating Aizen in Muken, despite the ire being very brief, whereas Ichigo witnessed it upon defeating him with Urahara's aid, despite it merely being an act - they found themselves before a whole other level of rage.

Even to Grimmjow, the brown-haired man somehow appeared to be even deadlier than usual, and the former Arrancar, truth to be told, had immediately picked up on it as the three of them entered the room. The burning emotion emanating from the immortal in scorching waves was a stronger, more primal aspect of anger, an anger that was of the deceased Yammy's calibre, if not more.

Aizen was livid, seething, hopping mad, wrathful and seemingly ready to take it all out one _anyone_ who so much annoyed or displeased him. It wasn't even fully hidden, just barely, very thinly, veiled, as if a mere error on their part would be valid enough to send the child of chaos exploding. And the most bizarre in all this, was that the child of chaos didn't _even_ appear to be perturbed by the fact that the clean concealment around his emotions, usually kept at bay, had slipped, and that he was openly exposing this new side of him utterly unknown to them.

However, it was quite clear that none of them were the source, leading the feline to honestly wonder who had the guts and gall to put Aizen of all people in such a messed-up, hectic state.

"I have yet to hear you _reply_ , Byakuya," said the child of chaos frigidly, his voice as always terribly calm, despite the deadly danger lurking beneath his cruel, cruel eyes.

Mind still reeling, the Kuchiki, quite aghast, lowered his eyes submissively, hurriedly putting Rukia's safety before anything: "Y-Yes, Aizen-sama. I- I set forth my deepest apologies."

"With that now cleared, I'll explain to you how your new corporal shells work," uttered the immortal, after a moment of staring down on the overwrought noble before then completely disregarding him in favour of focusing on the feline "Grimmjow. Bite Ichigo."

There was a rather heavily significant, lengthy pause as Aizen's given order slowly hit home.

At the former Arrancar's hesitance given the Shinigami Substitute's sudden stiffness, the child of chaos slowly arched an elegant brown eyebrow: "Would you rather _I_ did it?"

Clenching his jaw as to grind down any uprising insults, Grimmjow cast a fleeting glance to the teen's wide, apprehensive eyes before slowly, carefully touching Ichigo's arm and, taking hold of the tense limb but meeting no resistance, he then raised it to his mouth, lips parted, teeth bared.

"His wrist? _Really_? What kind of bite would that be?" scoffed Aizen deridingly, his smirk twisting into a nasty sneer, tone imposing "His _neck_ , Grimmjow. _Now_. I don't have all day."

As the former Arrancar growled low in his throat, the immortal steadily held the other's gaze, returning the incensed glare with a levelled look, as though _daring_ the feline to defy his order.

Mentally committing a vivid and gruesome murder, the former Arrancar did as he was told, aiming for the teenager's neck, breathing against the other's shivering skin, before then biting carefully, lightly...and Ichigo _screamed_.

Agony. _Sheer_ agony was what he felt, rather than the feline's teeth, as though something sharp and vivid had been hammered into him, like a set of sharp, long pins tearing, destroying his flesh, right till the bone.

Taken by absolute panic upon hearing the teen's cry of pain, Grimmjow hastily pulled away, alarmed and worried, his hands up in surrender, whereas Ichigo, wide blown eyes hastily checked his neck in a nearby hung mirror in order to see the extent of the damage, awaiting in horror to witness the worst.

Only, to his upmost astonishment, it was no more than an ordinary bite. No blood, not even any bruising, merely a faint trace of its existence marking his skin and in no way translating the throbbing pain he was _still_ feeling, gradually receding at an excruciatingly _slow_ pace.

As Byakuya watched on, unable to comprehend and totally staggered for he had seen the feline act with extreme gentleness, and Grimmjow stayed stock still, Ichigo turned to face the immortal with wide flabbergasted eyes, knowing that only _Aizen_ had the answer: "Wha-?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" smiled the child of chaos wickedly, darkly amused, before he gracefully gestured towards their bodies for emphasis "Within these shells, your sensory system is hugely heightened, notably when it comes to pain and/or pleasure."

Three faces blanched at the same time.

Oh _horror_.

"All the time-?"

"No, not at _all_ the time," corrected Aizen, focusing on the horrified teen, before the immortal considered the perspective "Well, your sense of touch _will_ be sharper - and that in general -however when or how one or the other will be amplified shall happen upon demand. And any change whatsoever can only be established with one of these."

Producing for them to see an object none amidst the three had noticed him holding until now, the trio found themselves staring at a rectangular object, with various buttons on it. And it looked very much like-

Jaw dropping in absolute horror, Ichigo felt as though he has heart had stopped, wilted, before falling straight down to the very bottom of the pit within his stomach. And he wasn't the only one to feel like that, given what they were looking at, quickly grasping that their predicament had yet again worsened.

A remote control. They... They were going to be controlled _by remotes_ , which could increase - or decrease - the level of both pain and pleasure, and this, just with the touch of a button.

Sadistic amusement didn't even begin to define the dreadful glint within the immortal's dark, ruthless eyes, as he carried on speaking, smoothly as ever: "Besides, rest majorly reassured that not _everyone_ has access to them."

As Grimmjow merely grit his teeth angrily for this particular 'option' didn't exist the last time he was here, both Byakuya and Ichigo were wondering _how_ they were going to survive what was to follow, and the fact of simply _thinking_ about it, made them want to collapse in despair.

And the immortal instantly picked up on that delectable sense of hopelessness, leading him to laugh darkly, all set to twist the knife even deeper: "Oh _please_. Acting like it's the end of the world, when you've seen _nothing_ as of yet. Speaking of which, I've taken away your names from you. Here, no one goes by their real name. Not even me."

Surprise, surprise. Yet _another_ harsh and nasty kick to the gut.

"Taken away our...names?"

"Yes, your names. It's called tagging," elaborated the child of chaos evenly as he stood up slow, using a word which brought to the trio's mind a prior conversation they had with Leona.

"I will _not_ abide by this," seethed out the Kuchiki vehemently through clenched teeth, beyond horrified and humiliated "My name _is_ and will be _nothing_ else than-!"

An unpleasant burning - yet majorly painless - sensation abruptly erupted within the noble's throat, robbing him of his voice and rendering him unable to speak, causing Byakuya's hands to immediately fly up to his neck, wondering what on earth was happening now.

"I told you, didn't I? I've taken _away_. Your _names_ ," said the child of chaos as he drew even closer, pausing for delicious dramatic effect, loving every bit of the Kuchiki's expression "They're no longer yours to use. Anyone else can call you by them, expect yourselves. But to be honest, I'd rather no one - whether it comes to the patrons or the dolls - know of them. Everyone's true identities here are personal. Better keep it that way."

Currently standing right in front of his horror-struck captives with a sly smirk to his lips, the immortal slowly held out his hand, his fingers splayed gracefully: "Your left hand, Byakuya."

Frowning warily, the noble initially wanted to refuse, but recalling the other's previous threat to his sister had him complying reluctantly, extending his hand to the child of chaos who in turn seized it firmly, carelessly tugging the shinigami captain flush against him.

Repulsed and unsettled, Byakuya heatedly attempted to pull away, but Aizen didn't let him, amusement to his features as he tightened his hold painfully, his other hand flying up to tangle in the noble's dark locks, keeping the latter in place within a painful grip: "Stay _still_ , dear."

The lethal edge still lingering inside the immortal's tone had the dark-haired shinigami obey out of caution, but he still conveyed his displeasure, by clenching his teeth and looking away.

As Ichigo and Grimmjow watched on rigid and unsure if they should interfere, the Kuchiki inwardly felt a strong sense of panic, dreading what the other had in mind for him, what he would do to him, do to him right before the of other two. He was praying to _any_ god willing to hear that he would _not_ be mistreated _now_ in front of _them_ , or _anyone else_ for that matter...

Acutely aware of the shinigami captain's distress, the child of chaos played on it sadistically, drawing closer still and breathing straight down the noble's vulnerable, arched neck, before he then languidly ran his tongue up the other's throat, causing Byakuya to let out a strangled sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a yelp.

Upon hearing the browbeaten sound escape from the Kuchiki's lips coupled with the air of complete subjection to his features, Ichigo's instincts kicked in, his voice harsh and imposing before he could rein any of it in: "Leave him alone."

Halting completely in his movements, the immortal slowly shifted his focus onto the teenager, a terrible, threatening glint gleaming within ruthless dark brown eyes, his deadly frozen tone not even bothering to articulate a question: "Did. You. Just. _Dare_. Order. _Me_."

Once more, they found themselves facing this side of their captor none knew how to confront.

Gulping quietly, the trembling Substitute Shinigami tried to ignore his trepidation and press on further, testing rather brittle boundaries, but rendering his voice far more compliant: "J-Just do what you have to do and stop tormenting him. _Please_."

Whilst both the feline and the noble were tensely glancing between the teen and the immortal, worriedly awaiting the worst, the latter two were staring firmly at each other, neither willing to back down, with the child of chaos regarding Ichigo with deadly silence, as he gauged him critically, before he then broke into a broad, deriding smirk.

" _Stop_? Why should I? I've barely begun," uttered Aizen smoothly with dark amusement, yet relinquishing all the same his oppressive hold upon the shinigami captain, allowing the latter some space, but still kept a firm grip on the noble's wrist.

Breathing hard, Byakuya trembled a little at the thought of what could have happened just now, thankful that the teenager had actually, somehow, managed to talk the immortal out of it. His silver grey eyes met soft brown ones, wordlessly conveying his gratitude to the other, who merely offered a small, sore smile and shook his head slightly.

Ichigo didn't really believe that he did much, their captor more likely giving up afflicting the noble on a whim, repercussions on the matter bound to come round when they least expected it.

"What to call you? Let's see..." pondered the child of chaos aloud as he carefully eyed the Kuchiki, raising the latter's hand to his mouth - as though to kiss it - except that his lips were a breadth away from the silver bracelet instead "I think ' _Zakura'_ will fit quite nicely."

Relishing at the look of utter aversion flitting upon the Kuchiki's horrified face, the immortal smiled smugly as his words took effect, the Romanji name ' _Za-ku-ra_ ' slowly engraving itself within the bracelet in a neat and elegant flourish, before Aizen let go and pulled away.

Without touching them, he then repeated the process for Grimmjow and Ichigo, whispering the latter two's new names into the bracelets, which in turn, abidingly carved ' _Panthera'_ and ' _Shujinkou'_ **(8)** respectively onto themselves.

"Shujinkou?" echoed the young teenager with a baffled expression thinly etched with dismay.

"Don't you like it?" inquired the immortal with false surprise "I think it suits you perfectly."

"It's a _mouthful_ ," protested Ichigo under his breath, before quickly looking away when Aizen chuckled at the young one's comment.

Again, the only two that seemed really bothered by this new development were Byakuya and Ichigo. Along with everything they were experiencing, the former considered it dehumanizing and degrading to find himself stripped of the grandeur of his name, and the latter never liked it when others authorized themselves to rename him, though he would make an exception for kids any day.

Tracing the former Arrancar's bracelet lightly, the child of chaos then leisurely moved away, pacing a little: "As such, you three, with these tags, will be working here, until further notice."

"Just so we're clear, if your name here isn't Aizen...sama, I am _not_ calling you 'daddy'," blurted out Ichigo vehemently, before his features dyed themselves a dark crimson, realizing that he actually said that out loud and everything. He could tell that Grimmjow and Byakuya staring at him hard, but he didn't dare meet their eyes, wondering himself what had possessed him to say such a thing whilst awaiting the immortal's reaction with dread.

The teenager had been expecting the child of chaos to mock him. Or perhaps even, just out of simple spite, endorse the idea, but instead Aizen visibly cringed with an appalled expression, to the profound surprise of the three: " _Absolutely not_. Personally, _I_ would never ask you to do such a thing. Besides, this establishment isn't _that_ vulgar."

"Nah, of course not," shrugged Grimmjow indifferently, his aloof eyes then shifting to narrow angrily, his teeth bared into a vicious snarl "It's just a fuckin' brothel. _Nothing_ vulgar here."

"A _pleasure_ house, as I have said before and will not repeat again," uttered Aizen, his voice calm, though his dark, implacable eyes were narrowed in lethal warning "Careful, Grimmjow. I am in _no_ mood for games."

Glaring, the blue-haired feline held his ground for a moment, before relenting reluctantly and looking away, knowing better than to push when he really shouldn't: "Tch."

"Besides, you're being far too general with that appellation of yours," remarked the immortal coolly, lithely retaining composure once more "True, this establishment satisfies the pleasure of flesh, but it also gives value to _other_ kinds of pleasure, as you'll soon see for yourselves."

There was a distinctive hint of macabre humour and subtle trace of a sadistic threat to the immortal's tone as he said that and it only served to unnerve further Ichigo, Byakuya and even Grimmjow this time, whereas the child of chaos continued to speak: "Here, _notably_ in front of others, address me as solely 'Suzuki-sama. Not that I mind 'Aizen-sama', but you're amidst the only ones to me by name here."

The immortal paused to let the information sink in before turning his attention to his former warrior: "Grimmjow. I've already informed you before of the rules that are to be applied here. I don't see the need in repeating myself."

As the former Arrancar stiffened slightly, Ichigo was fairly startled, his babyish brown eyes wide: "So you really _have_ been here before?"

"Yeah," answered the blue-haired feline simply, cagily, not elaborating further on that, whilst nodding at the child of chaos to convey his acknowledgment and understanding as to what the other was truly hinting to.

Aizen wasn't simply addressing the regulations meant for _Débauche_. He was also referring to a certain deal made not too long ago involving Ichigo.

 _"I - only I - will not lay a finger on him, sparing him of any of my turpitude, but that will not go for anyone else, given where we are heading,"_ had said the child of chaos in all his wickedness _"And_ ** _anything_** _that he does, not in compliance with his orders,_ ** _you_** _will pay for it. In full. And dearly."_

Of course, Aizen being Aizen, the feline wasn't sure _how_ he'd pay for any noncompliance the teen would show, but he steadfastly maintained that he wouldn't let Ichigo know about this deal. And the child of chaos agreed to it. For now.

"As for you two, let me be brief and very clear," declared the child of chaos as he addressed the teen and the noble, towering over them and locking cruel, dark eyes with their distressed, dismayed ones "The Twilights - those three lovely dears which you have encountered earlier - will be your mentors until further notice. They will teach you what you are to know and train you in how you are to perform. In addition, keep in mind that they are my ears and eyes, so should you be any trouble, I'll be the first to know. You'd best be careful when in their hands. Their devotion to me is quite...pronounced."

As Ichigo shuddered and Byakuya inwardly did the same, dark amusement never seemed to leave the immortal's features whilst he carried on with ease: "Byakuya, given that your dear grandfather values your blood more than your soul **(9)** , you will be steered clear from any female dolls and patrons. That won't be the case for any of the male gender however."

"As if I'd let the likes of **them** touch me," stated the shinigami captain icily, eyes narrowed, an absolutely harmless action that only led the child of chaos to chuckle scathingly.

"No need to be _so_ hostile. Besides, there's not much you can do to prevent that, my dear. You can only do as I say. Remember that you sold yourself to me in order to keep your precious family safe."

The raging fierceness that shone within the noble's ever-so expressive eyes was quick to fade to weary helplessness: "You made me... _Forced_ me."

"I'll admit to that, fine. But know that going back on your word now is not happening, right?" cautioned Aizen lightly as he drew closer to Byakuya again, locking eyes intently with him "Besides, think about it. Doesn't it feel like an honour to shoulder a burden that could have been globally inflicted upon your loved ones?"

"There's no honour in this," the Kuchiki whispered, eyes clenched closed, aghast but unable to feel anger anymore. By all means he should be, but the onslaught of emotional warfare he had been going through for the past days was becoming too heavy to bear, and he was now left far too exhausted to rage.

"No. Just humiliation. _Yours_ ," drawled out the child of chaos lengthily a broad smirk to his lips, an eyebrow slowly arching as he held the Kuchiki's chin in a firm, unremitting grip "The Twilights' word is absolute for they are simply carrying out what I told them to. Disobeying them, is directly disobeying me. Heed what they say, no matter how degrading or dreadful it may seem or sound to you. Am I clear?"

Although he coerced himself to stay put, Aizen's hold on him had prompted the noble to open his eyes again, extremely wary under the other's touch he deemed ambiguous, inappropriate, sinister. Keeping in mind that he was supposed to reply the other, the shinigami captain forced words out of his mouth, refusing neither to pay mind to their significance nor to register how heavy they felt upon his tongue: "It is as you command, Ai- Suzuki-sama."

" _Good_ boy," praised the immortal with a patronizing expression, adding further to Byakuya's humiliation, the latter who lowered his eyes as to escape the other's rapacious stare "See? It's not _that_ hard. The quicker you are to accept the reality of your situation, the easier it'll be."

Silver grey eyes flashed back to the immortal in fair anger: "There's _nothing_ easy about this."

A wicked Machiavellian smile touched Aizen's lips: "Admitting the opposite would be a lie."

 **To be continued...**

 **Next Update:** _Under the Twilights (Chapter 2)_

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 **(1)** The necklace Aizen bestows to Doll is like the one Nicky ( _Will Smith_ ) gives to Jessie ( _Margot Robbie_ ) in the movie _Focus (2015)_ , after she had expressed a fascination in said jewellery. This was done for a reason, in addition to the movie in question having played a part in the conception of this section of the 'Fallen series' (in fact, this fic has references from several other movies ( _Vice (2015)_ ; _Sucker Punch_ ; _Sin City_ ; _Boyka Undisputed_ ; _The Purge, Anarchy_...) as they all have a rather heavy influence on the plot).

 **(2)** I thought it'd be interesting to let you know what I was listening to as I wrote down the face-off that went down between Aizen and Doll. Let's see if the songs give you an insight on their 'relationship': _Not in Love_ by _Natalia Kills_ and _Cake_ by _Melanie Martinez_ (for Doll); _Love Me to Death_ by _No Resolve_ and _Not Strong Enough_ by _Apocalyptica_ (for Aizen).

 **(3)** The honorific '- _dana'_ is similar to '- _sama'_ or '- _dono'_ , as in ' _master'_ , ' _mistress'_ and so on.

 **(4)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 8: _Fate for Spoils_ , Scene 2 (scenes are separated by: **In the Sereitei/Karakura Town** , **Back to**...etc; or by this: 0000000000).

 **(5)** I don't think that's how it's _actually_ called, but in the French version of the series (the only version I got to see), that's the name of the thing Szayel uses to come back to life, after leeching energy off from Nemu.

 **(6)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 9: _Taking It In_ , Scene 5.

 **(7)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 10: _One Last Time_ , Scene 3.

 **(8)** So? What do you think of Ichigo, Grimmjow and Byakuya's names? Not _too_ weird I hope. To be quite honest, I was inspired by _Pantera_ and _Senbon **zakura**_ for Grimmjow and Byakuya respectively, whereas _Shujinkou_ means ' _hero'_ / _'Main character'_ which fits Ichigo, despite the word being too long for me. I would have used the equivalent of the word _'moon'_ if I didn't have another future character with that name (I'm not giving anything else away on this one).

 **(9)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 8: _Fate for Spoils_ , Scene 5.

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A/N: Before you ask, given that this entire fic started _right after_ the Winter War, the Fullbringers and Quincy as you know them do _not_ exist in this fic. I really didn't want to create _more_ than those I had in mind (which is the case for Tora, Millie and Leona: ), so I merely used the characters that showed up in later arcs within the Bleach series. Apart from Doll, their names don't differ that much than their original ones, so I'm guessing you'll be able to tell who's who. If not, no worries, I can clarify. Just let me know. See you!


	3. Part Two: Chapter 2 P1

**The Fallen Series (a Bleach Fanfiction) by Seth's Kiss:**

A/N: Hello, everyone! _Immensely_ sorry for this very _**late**_ update! I can't believe it's been over _six months_ since I've updated, gosh! In all seriousness though, I had _**A LOT**_ of things going on, along with gruelling details which I will not bore you with. Also, not only this chapter was _long_ \- SO long, that I had no choice but to upload it into two parts, the site unable to upload the chapter as a whole - and a lot of work, but time really doesn't like me much (...pouts).

Before the chapter begins, I have just a couple of things to say to those willing to hear me out.

Firstly, I'd like to give a huge thank you to **NekoPantera** for being there with me through rather tough and hard times. I've had their support, their encouragement, their friendship, and I really do hope that I can remain worthy of them for, hopefully, many PMs to come. They've aided me with my writing, with my life, with my personal problems, patiently putting up with as well as my impromptu delayed responses to our exchanged PMs... They're a lifesaver in ways you couldn't ever imagine. Thank you _SO_ much **NekoPantera** -san! I truly recommend checking out their profile as they have an **AWESOME** Bleach fic there. They've also just begun a Harry Potter fic, which is _**very**_ much unique. Please credit them; they truly deserve it.

Secondly, as you'll see from here on out, some segments will start (or end or be interrupted) with a set of lyrics, because, for some reason, the scenes just don't work in my head without the background music I used when writing them. While the songs in themselves don't _always_ match the segment, the lyrics are depicted as a parallel and act like a riddle. Some will be rather obvious, others not so much. If you figure things out, don't hesitate to let me know. It'll be like a solving game! On another note, I _might_ repeat the songs, but **not** cite the same lyrics.

Please do enjoy the update, everyone!

Rating for this chapter: The stakes are _pretty_ higher here. Given the environment our trio are now in, several sexual situations are to be expected, not predominantly, but at least often. There'll be two major bits within this chapter. One of them is the longest, where Ichigo and Byakuya will go through their forced but slow 'training', which includes (globally): M/M, Degradation, Bondage, Oral and Non-con (by means of Sex toys). They will also be language, nudity, inebriety, self-harm, a passage of horror and gore, and a passage of violence, where two characters come to blows. I can't exactly point out to a _specific_ fraction of this chapter to skip for those who may be wary of all this, as, for example, Ichigo and Byakuya's training is really a major part (it is 3/7 segments), cut by different passages of the chapter (000000000), like an on/off switch... On a fair warning, I've been reading erotic fiction recently, so what will come up, will be somewhat influenced, but I'm unable to confirm if it's graphic, yet I can state that it's quite vulgarized. Read at your own risk, is all I can advise. You've been warned.

 **P.S:** You'll find that the **poll** for this fic is still open if you're willing to vote. You only need to check my profile and place a vote. I'll keep it open until Chapter 3 (next chapter), so please feel free to pick what could eventually be, somewhere, at some point, within the flow of this fic. If there is something else that you'd like to add that isn't featured in the poll, please send me a PM or leave a review.

 **Poll:** **What will you be willing to read in the upcoming chapters?**

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 ** _Responding to your reviews:_**

 **To Guest 1:** Hello and thank you for your review! I'm SO glad that you enjoyed the previous chapter! Hope you'll like this one too! Take care! And see you next update, I hope! Bye!

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 **Part Two: Dignity Falls:**

 **Chapter 2:** Under the Twilights (Part 1):

Stumbling as she dashed up the stairs, Leona inaudibly lamented to herself on the new and unexpected amendment to this night's schedule and rota, as well as the impact it would cause.

She was _not_ happy with it. And she knew most of the others were going to like it even _less_. Also, she _knew_ , without a doubt, despite being the messenger, she was _going_ _to_ be shot down.

Although it was done in unfairness and misconception, Leona effortlessly understood why she would be a potential outlet to their dissent and displeasure. After all, it was always so much easier to shift and to place the blame on others, particularly if they were of the kind or gentle type. These words just about screamed 'pathetic' to most, who labelled these traits as flaws...

She was swift to sprint away from the dim memory lane her thoughts were slowly leading her.

' _Don't go there_ ,' whispered her mind in caution, and she knew better than to do the opposite. They weren't the best of her memories after all.

Leona then dutifully refocused on her task at hand as she hastily ran through the hall that was to lead her to the other dolls, all while wishing, for once, by some miracle, they'd be tolerant enough to not take it out on her.

Besides, no matter how anyone in this place were to feel, about anything at all, what was for certain was that Suzuki-sama's orders were absolutely this, regardless of whether they were initially premeditated, or simply and suddenly made on a whim.

And them, the pretty, brittle dolls, bound in every way to their creator, could only follow and submit, despite some of them having their inner-made protests or their own personal will. Neither of those two had a voice in here, so they were never heard, never used, never needed.

Mind whirling as usual, Leona eventually reached her destination and, without knocking or thinking, she barged straight on in, slamming the door open and parting her lips to speak, before freezing completely where she was.

She had been sent to tell the other dolls of the change in plans and, given the time it currently was, they were all up in the changing rooms. But, with all that rushing about and distracted thinking, it had completely skipped her mind that they were actually _changing_.

Several eyes, of different shape and colour, barely glanced over at her, their apathetic and aloof gazes upon her as she just stood there awkwardly, before nonchalantly going back to what they were doing, totally untroubled about their state of dress, or rather _undress_.

Leona, however, was troubled. _Very_ much so.

A dark blush crept along her cheeks as she stiffened, berating herself for her inconsideration, before she swiftly averted her gaze and then fixatedly glued her amber eyes onto the floor.

Awaiting to be acknowledged but seeing that she was clearly and _entirely_ being ignored, the blue-haired girl, still rather uncomfortable, coughed uneasily, hoping to gain their attention.

With the others not even bothering to look at her this time, two girls, one lazily and the other sharply, darted back their focus onto Leona, this time with curiosity and irritation respectively laced within their gentle green and bitter blue eyes.

" _What_?" spat out the second girl unkindly, angrily flipping her long, bright green hair over her shoulder with a hand - exposing her well-endowed bare upper body even more - while using the other hand to loudly cap closed the fluo cherry lipstick she had been _so_ busy applying.

With extreme care, Leona tentatively began speaking: "There has been a last-minute change."

"Oh?" uttered the first girl, as she leaned forwards with intrigue, her long, wavy fuchsia hair moving along with her, while everyone else in the room tensed and halted in their movements.

Amber eyes still to the ground, the blue-haired girl, rigid under the rising tension, quickly shut the door and shuffled in, heading over to her reserved corner in the room, all while explaining the situation: "The Twilights will be having the nights off for a few, and this on orders. So, me and a couple of others, will be working with you tonight, to even the numbers."

" _What_?! Why the fuck am I hearing this only _now_?! _Motherfuckin'_ -!"

As the bright green-haired hissed profanities and the others muttered or mumbled under their breaths, the fuchsia-haired girl kept her attention on Leona, tilting her head as she questioned: "Who'll hold the front desk then, if not you, Leo-chan?"

"Millie," informed the other, but as they all gave her incredulous looks - given that Millie in question was mute, so...uh, _how_? - Leona was quick to add "Tora will be with her."

With that made clear, they each wordlessly went back to prepping, preening and prettifying themselves before then picking up their clothes and accessories, while Leona took a seat and a let out a soft sigh of relief.

The truth was, despite them being in a setting where it was everyone for themselves, many of the dolls counted on the Twilights given their huge popularity. They were more often than not stealing the spotlight, with their lethal charm, leaving the others to deal with either a lesser number of patrons or the least complicated of patrons. And it suited them just fine that way.

Hence, it had all went _way_ better than Leona could have expected. No fits. No fights. They were clearly annoyed and disgruntled about it, but they kept it at that.

It seemed almost too good to be true.

"And the routine?" piped up the fuchsia-haired abruptly in remembrance, a worried frown to her face "You haven't attended the rehearsals in a while now, Leo-chan. What will you do?"

Yikes. There it was. It really _had_ been _too_ good to be true.

Leona had been so nervous as to how they'd react with the Twilights' temporary absence, that she had forgotten part of what she was supposed to tell them.

"About that...The Plays will be cancelled, by the way. It'll be just...typical nights for a while."

A third girl, this one with long, black hair and deathly pale skin, rolled her cold, indigo eyes in a cynical manner and - as she skilfully, childishly styled up two stray strands at the very top of her head to look like very _long_ antennas - snorted sardonically: " _Typical_ , my fuckin' ass."

However, she was the _only_ one to react in such a smooth way regarding this new chunk of information. So, apart from that girl's remark briefly breaking the silence, it was dead quiet for a very suffocating moment, before a deafening uproar came to life, fired up tongues letting hell break loose, voices crashing into each other as they all ranted and raved their aggravation.

Because, in truth, a night at _Débauche_ without a 'play', meant dealing _directly_ and _straight off_ with the patrons, and while the Twilights didn't mind at all, the other dolls minded. _A LOT_.

"What the _hell_?!"

"Oh _no_ , Leo-chan. _Why_?"

"First the Twilights, now the _Plays_?! What the fuckin' heck makes this 'typical', baka Leo?! Like _hell_ I'm working tonight, you little sh-!"

"Suzuki-sama's back," interrupted the blue-haired as firmly as she could, sincerely hoping it'd convey to them that this was beyond her, as well as beyond them. And it really, truly was.

The other dolls apparently appeared to realize this, as their tantrum dampened down several notches and, after a stagnated minute or two, they wordlessly settled with carrying on their preparations, instantly falling into line upon reflex at the mere mention of that man's name. Funny how much power and influence their creator had over each and every one of them...

With no one present particularly affected with the landlord's return, they did have to wonder what their maker's abrupt and impromptu reappearance stood for, after being gone for so long...dreading what it may mean. Their master's presence at _Débauche_ was never good.

That distressing thought alone had a fourth girl - her long, straight, thick hair dark brown and her eyes blazing brown - groaning loudly: " _Ugh_. This is going to be one _very_ long night."

"Since when have nights ever been short here?" smirked the black-haired girl from before, her smarmy, sickly sweet tone causing a few to either glower at her or just shudder in revulsion.

"Not another fuckin' word, Gigi," seethed the green-haired, murderously glaring daggers at the girl in question.

Grinning like a crazy, mad Jester, the black-haired girl called Gigi simply blew a loud kiss - via her hand, before making a show of shifting her gesture in order to flip off everyone else in the room - just as the Twilights opened the door and made their way in, exuding superiority with their every step.

"And then three lucky cunts walked in," sneered the green-haired girl viciously, eyeing them hatefully, while they merely wore amused expressions of dark and sinister humour, chuckling.

" _Love_ you, too, bitch," drawled out the blonde tauntingly, making the other two males with him smirk along, before he batted his eyelashes and bit his lip with feigned zeal "I _really_ do."

"Yep," uttered Gigi scathingly under her breath, eyes rolling again " _Really_ feeling the love."

"Night off, eh?" uttered the brown-haired girl, eyes narrowed with high resentment in them.

"Not exactly, Bambi dear. It's initiation for a couple of new dolls," informed the blonde male using a light tone with entendre, whereas he and the other two retrieved what they came for - multiple sets of boxes - before sending them a salacious wink and leaving straight after that.

With the trio gone, a couple of dolls exchanged glances, while others grimaced with distaste.

Though not much was said during this brisk exchange, the Twilights need not say any more. They all knew what it meant. And the boxes they had just taken only served to confirm that.

"Oh, the poor darlings," whispered the fuchsia-haired girl sympathetically, chewing upon her lower lip as she lowered her gentle gaze "To deal with _those_ three for their very first time here... And they look so dangerously thrilled on top of that. That's generally _very_ bad. I feel so sorry for these new ones."

Going back to gingerly styling up her short hair to give it a wild, punkish look, Leona could only mutely return the sentiment, only she remained totally impassive and did not say a thing.

" _Why_? No one's _ever_ felt sorry for any of us," scoffed the green-haired acerbically in turn, as she slipped into a strapless, glittery dress, before casting a patronizing look in the other girl's direction "Or for _you_. You know that, right? Here, it's everyone for themselves. Always."

As the green-haired finished her words with a dark flourish, the fuchsia-haired let out a soft, unhappy sigh, unable to rid herself of her concern: "I know, but-"

"But _zilch_. Just another set of lowlifes, that's all," stated the other inflexibly, her mind made.

The fuchsia-haired girl winced at the green-haired girl's insensitivity and intolerance: "...Isn't that a little harsh? You haven't even met them yet, Candi-chan."

"Don't need to. They're _here_ , aren't they? We're _all_ lowlifes here," declared the green-haired girl vituperatively, before looking herself over and - after seeing that everything was in order - walking straight out the room with an assertive step, her heels clicking noisily as she left.

"Does she have to be mean _all_ the time?" mumbled the fuchsia-haired girl with a faint frown, fiddling aimlessly with the different-sized pearl necklaces around her neck.

"And do _you_ have to be naive all the time, Meni?" countered Gigi unpleasantly, boredom to her features as she spoke brusquely, distantly "You'll never hear me _complaining_ about it."

Again, the girl called Meni flinched at the realistic harshness the others had to offer, whereas Leona bit her lip, furrowing her brow but, again, not saying anything. And not quite daring to.

It was like the other had said before she had left. Here, no one could afford to stand up or put themselves in line for the other. It was just far too problematic, on _so_ _**many**_ levels. Another weakness. Hence, in the end, it really _was_ everyone for themselves. It was a lot safer that way.

"Long night indeed," whispered Leona softly, wearily - mindful to not be heard and instigate another turbulence - as she raised her eyes upwards, and began applying a line of eye shadow.

 _Stilled in my trembling lips_

 _How did the night ever get like this?_

 _ **(Runnin', by Adam Lambert)**_

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Though this was certainly not the first time, Ichigo found himself worrying about Grimmjow.

By all means, given Grimmjow was Grimmjow, the Shinigami Substitute shouldn't be _that_ concerned, but he really couldn't help it.

The former Arrancar had, in time, somehow found a definite place in the teen's caring zone reserved for those he felt the unconditional need to be there for, the ones he felt the need to never give up on.

Not everyone understood this particular part of him - sometimes not even himself - but Ichigo just couldn't change how he was. It was in his nature to be this protective, in his name even.

Whenever he fought, it was out of obligation, out of necessity, not because _he_ wanted to. Heck, if it was up to him personally, he'd completely avoid conflict, opting further for a more peaceful, trouble-free life.

It was just, conflict and danger seemed somewhat _always_ attracted to him, notably given the fact that he would, more often than not, selflessly step in and endanger his own wellbeing to fight battles...that were not even his to begin with.

Call him conceited or arrogant or whatever, that was just the way he was. And will always be.

Right now, Ichigo and Byakuya were waiting, locked up some sort of closet-like room, that was nearly fully bare, with nothing inside but a scarcely functioning light above them and a small bench - which neither the noble nor the teen were sitting upon, both seated on the floor in a corner each instead, silently lost deep down in thought.

Sighing softly for the umpteenth time, the teenager drew his legs upwards and leaned his chin on his knees, feeling further on edge than ever with the feline's absence, hating that he had no way to know where the other was or what was happening to him.

And Ichigo was truly assuming the worst by now, especially given how things had last ended.

" _You're going to fuckin'_ _ **separate**_ _us?!" seethed out Grimmjow in a low, heated hiss, angry shock to his darkened features._

 _Despite someone - a big, bulk muscled man in a suit - entering the room upon the immortal's command to escort them away, Aizen did not let the trio leave right away,_ _as he had yet a couple of more other unpleasant things to tell them._

" _The three of you will share a room together by the end of whatever's been required of you," commented the child of chaos offhandedly, wording it dismissively as if he was granting them an act of grand indulgence "Otherwise, you'll each be somewhere different, yes."_

" _But you've_ _ **never**_ _-" began the feline lividly before halting instantly in realization, eyes wide._

 _He had been about to say that the other had never said that, but_ _ **there**_ _was the very hitch. Aizen never_ _ **said**_ _ **anything**_ _about this._

 _Pure rage flitted across Grimmjow's features, as ire boiled through his veins, resenting with every fibre of his being how the immortal managed to mould every situation to his favour._

" _You fuckin' seedy son of a b-"_

 _The former Arrancar managed just in time to hold down the rest of his insult at the ugly look of sheer and raw violence that crossed the other's killer cold features, the feline recalling just in time how much Aizen valued his mother._

 _...That was close. Too close._

" _A good thing you caught your tongue," drawled out the child of chaos evenly, his tone not once betraying the still present fury somewhere within him "Once again, I am_ _ **no**_ _mood to be lenient, Grimmjow. ...Clear?"_

 _As the master and former servant glared at each other with belligerent intensity, Ichigo's eyes flitted apprehensively between the two, expecting them to jump at each other's throats at any moment, notably with the malevolent glint the immortal's dimmed eyes harboured._

" _Transparent, Aizen-sama," hissed out the blue-haired male eventually in near dampened ire, sounding almost as if he was spitting the other's name, but the once-Espada lowered his gaze in quiet surrender all the same._

 _Grimmjow was on Aizen's bad side already, with quite certainly a plateful of punishments in store for the days to come. He didn't need to worsen his case and aggravate the child of chaos further than he had previously. Especially since the feline wasn't totally sure that he'd be the_ _ **only**_ _one on the receiving end this time._

" _Good," uttered Aizen tonelessly, shifting his focus to the bulk of a man, still standing at the back, before then nodding curtly in Grimmjow's direction "Get him out of my sight."_

 _And ever since that very moment, where that very man came forth and forcefully dragged an unwilling, struggling Grimmjow away, neither Byakuya nor Ichigo saw the feline since then..._

"You shouldn't be worrying about him."

The Shinigami Substitute startled rather badly, blinking his wide eyes in the noble's direction.

Breaking from his meditations to coolly regard the teenager in his company, Byakuya merely had an eyebrow raised upon reserved, controlled features, so the young male couldn't tell if the other was in fact annoyed and about to reprimand him, or simply wished to speak to him.

Truthfully, given that neither of them had said a word to each other since they had separately set foot in this room, Ichigo really hadn't been expecting a conversation to spark. At all.

But, apparently, his anxiety and worry was palpable enough to drive the Kuchiki to interfere.

"I may not know him well, but I do not believe that he would _want_ you to worry, young man," continued on the dark-haired, choosing his words carefully, as reassurance was not really his forte, but still tried what he could anyway "He'll be fine."

Not quite sure what to say, Ichigo nodded wordlessly, but it was without much conviction.

It was hard to explain - and he'd truly like to believe that he was not being pessimistic here - but the orange-haired teen had a bad feeling. A very bad one.

Things have obviously being going downhill ever since the child of chaos had won the Other War, but Ichigo instinctively sensed that there was more - worse - to come.

And to be totally fair, Grimmjow wasn't the only one the orange-haired male was anxious for. Ichigo was also concerned about Byakuya. And this, within good reason.

 _Aizen - now sitting again - had kept Ichigo and Byakuya a little longer, sadistically twisting the knife deeper, more so with the feline absent, whilst filling them in with additional details._

 _Once he had finished his distressing monologue, the child of chaos inattentively waved them away, as his focus diverted to a stack of papers that had been sitting beside him._

" _Go on then, be gone. I'm done with you."_

 _They didn't need to be told twice._

 _However, as they - both rather relieved to get away from Aizen - began speed walking for the door, the immortal's condescending voice rose up again, stilling them in their steps with his next words: "Not you,_ _Ichigo. Come over here for a moment."_

 _Apprehensive, the young orange-haired male glanced nervously at Byakuya - whose features were just as strained - before he gradually looked over his shoulder._

 _But the teenager wasn't met with Aizen's eyes - the later which were riveted upon the papers he was leafing through. However, the brown-haired male was using a free hand to pat at the empty space beside him on the couch._

 _Not moving at first, the teen then tentatively took slow, wary steps towards the other, before taking a seat as ordered, tension clear in his frame as his distressed eyes lowered to the floor._

 _When, all the while, the Kuchiki didn't go anywhere, Aizen spoke up steadily, firmly ushering the other to leave: "You, on the other hand, can go on ahead, dear Byakuya. Someone should already be at the door, waiting. He'll escort you where you need to be."_

 _The noble, however, was still hesitating, eyes straying over to where the uneasy teen now was._

 _As he didn't know what leaving Ichigo alone would entail for the latter, Byakuya looked like he was thinking of a subtle way to speak up against the other's command._

 _But the child of chaos beat him to it, not even bothering to look up, whilst smirking cruelly: "Don't worry. I'll let the boy go once I'm finished with him."_

 _...Well, that sounded even less reassuring._

 _Clenching his jaw, the dark-haired shinigami seemed to realize that he, alas, couldn't stop or delay whatever was going to happen, so, after one last glance - etched with feeble comfort - in the teen's direction, Byakuya left without a word. Not that anyone could blame him._

 _Now the Kuchiki noble gone, the Shinigami Substitute vigilantly focused his frightened eyes upon the other, shaking a little as he did so and frankly hoping that Aizen didn't see anything._

 _But he did. He saw_ _ **all**_ _of it. Despite having yet to look in the teenager's direction, the way the immortal was smiling was a dead giveaway._

 _Hunching up his shoulders slightly, Ichigo shivered, now even more aware of his current state of dress. He felt exposed. ...Then he recalled, with horror, that the child of chaos had actually seen him naked - even if it had been by camera. The teenage flushed, mortified._

 _And, to make matters even worse, he somehow found himself remembering what the child of chaos had coerced him into saying, awhile back, out in the debris and ruins of what the proud Seireitei once used to be._

' _I, Kurosaki Ichigo, promise that my soul and body belong to Aizen-sama, existing for him and him only.'_ **(1)**

 _Given that he had literally handed himself over to the immortal, the young male had no power whatsoever to question anything at all Aizen were to do to him, or else those he had sacrificed himself for would pay the consequences..._

 _Current problem was,_ _ **what**_ _was the child of chaos going to do to him?_

" _There's no need to be so afraid, child," chuckled Aizen, amused as always, finally locking his dark, dark eyes on the other as he set his stack of papers on his knees "I can't hurt you."_

 _The curious way Aizen had formulated his sentence had the teen's disquiet pause upon taking it in after a minute. The other had said '_ _ **can't**_ _', but not '_ _ **won't**_ _'. And it led Ichigo to wonder..._

" _We're going to have to do something about your hair," commented the child of chaos lightly all of a sudden, as he eyed the teen with a pensive frown, leading Ichigo to blink, staggered and not expecting this at all._

" _It would really attract too much attention. And I'd rather you kept a low profile here."_

 _At first, the stunned teenager couldn't make_ _ **any**_ _sense of why the immortal was saying that. But, when it finally hit him, it made his eyes narrow in indignation, highly put off: "So I won't be recognized? Or found, that it?"_

" _Clever boy," the child of chaos smirked widely, once again appreciating the fact that the boy wasn't as naïve as everyone thought "Quite true. Some really dear to you have been adamant on declaring that you were missing, therefore you're currently being searched for throughout Japan, and even abroad. How wonderfully caring of them, isn't it?"_

 _Ichigo couldn't believe his ears._

 _And, immediately, his concerned mind hurriedly ran off to Karin and Yuzu, believing them to be who Aizen was insinuating._

 _While that did sound like something his worried sisters might do, it didn't really make sense. They knew - saw - that he was in a different world last they had been together. Did they know he was here? That couldn't be it either. If he recalled it correctly, they_ _ **had**_ _been told to keep quiet too. Had they defied what Aizen had told them? They wouldn't risk something like that._

 _Maybe, it wasn't his sisters, but his friends instead? Or...was the immortal messing with him?_

 _Revelling in the mixture of conflict, confusion and concern in the teenager's expression, Aizen then languidly raked his eyes over the unruly mane of vivid orange: "Would you be willing to grow them? No? How about changing the colour then? A shade of brown, perhaps?"_

" _So I'll look like_ _ **you**_ _?" retorted the teen tersely, scowling as he said so, which only served to heighten the other's amusement further, going as far as to make him laugh out heartily._

" _Dear child, even if that were to occur, you and I are_ _ **worlds**_ _apart," smiled Aizen pleasantly, his dark eyes glittering with a sly, sinister shine "Nothing a little dye would do to alter that."_

 _Frowning with lowered eyes, Ichigo spoke quietly, uncertain and uneasy: "I- I don't know."_

 _Dark, cunning brown eyes considered the other as an elegant eyebrow rose slowly: "Weren't you bullied in the past because of this colour? I mean, it_ _ **really**_ _does draw one's attention."_

 _Irked by the recurring reality in which the other knew almost_ _ **everything**_ _about him, Ichigo crossed his arms defensively, scowling: "That was_ _ **in**_ _the past."_

" _Of course, of course. No rush, anyways," suggested Aizen, as he rested his arms upon the headrest, with the other quickly shying away from the risk of being touched by the immortal. The teenager then scowled again as the child of chaos chuckled, clearly mocking him._

 _Apparently, it amused Aizen to witness him flit so erratically between dread and dislike._

 _Well, it certainly wasn't making Ichigo laugh._

" _Though I do strongly suggest a darker dye. It would suit you," the immortal then said in all seriousness, still on track with their - his - conversation._

 _Completely stumped and somewhat fed up with this wacky talk, Ichigo, frazzled, deadpanned: "Did you...? Did you just keep me here to talk about my_ _ **hair**_ _?"_

" _My, my, how impatient," commented the child of chaos, maliciously entertained, before then_ _ **totally**_ _altering the subject at hand and fully derailing the other "What is Byakuya to you?"_

 _Entirely taken aback, the Shinigami Substitute frowned in puzzlement: "What do you mean?"_

" _The question couldn't be any simpler, Ichigo. Simply answer it."_

 _Hesitating but a moment, the young male, brow furrowed deep, began to answer: "Byaku-"_

" _Za-ku-ra. His name now belongs to_ _ **me**_ _," reminded the other sharply, a sadistic, gloating smirk to his lips "Though you may say it, I wouldn't recommend it. It would only serve as a painful reminder that he can no longer call it_ _ **his**_ _name. That, and keep in mind that names are power. And you wouldn't to give that power to any of the patrons he may have, do you?"_

 _Every single time any conversation with Aizen portrayed anything remotely sexual, Ichigo was under the impression that it was simply too surreal to be real._

 _He was probably thinking along those lines given that he had yet to be 'in' such a situation - and what happened within that white room back in Las Noches, quite honestly, didn't count_ **(2)** _\- a situation neither he nor Byakuya and Grimmjow were too keen about._

 _Remembering that he had yet to reply, the teenager hastened to do so, considering his words with vigilant care, but with total honesty: "R-Right. So, uh... Zakura's…an acquaintance, I guess, since he wouldn't want me to call him a_ _ **friend**_ _. But he does stay someone I care for."_

' _And I made a promise to Rukia, so...' thought Ichigo, his mind rather resolute on this as he recalled her sad, tired eyes when she asked this favour of him 'So I'll be looking out for her brother, in any way and however I can.'_

" _Only he doesn't quite return the sentiment, does he?" drawled out Aizen derisively, breaking the other's train of thought "Point in fact, he doesn't seem to_ _ **like**_ _you much, or rather not at all. He has actually even tried to kill you multiple times, no?"_

" _Three," shrugged Ichigo nonchalantly, before he scowled as he shrewdly countered in turn "But you and the Espada, current and former, I've lost count."_

" _Indeed. Even_ _ **Grimmjow**_ _, since we're at it. Three times too, wasn't it? Looks like we have a pattern here. Does someone need to have you come close to death three times before you consider them dear to you?" mocked the immortal with a smirk, leading the teenager's scowl to deepen even more, before swiftly coming back to the matter at hand "But back to Byakuya. He_ _ **dislikes**_ _you, and this, far after you were established as the Seireitei's ally. Shocking, no?"_

" _That doesn't matter," declared Ichigo categorically, with a firm shake of his head, still put off by the other's former jibe. He had no idea why it bothered him more than it should have._

" _It doesn't? No, perhaps not when it comes to_ _ **you**_ _directly_ _. But when Byakuya's aversion towards you also extends over to your friends, like say-" paused the immortal with an air of malice, smiling cruelly "-_ _ **Orihime**_ _for instance, then that_ _ **should**_ _concern you, shouldn't it?"_

 _As Ichigo glared in silence, trepidation now fully leaving room for aggravation, Aizen went even further in his antagonizing, savouring the emotions he was drawing from the teenager._

" _Dear Byakuya had poor, sweet, gentle Orihime stay behind, remember? She didn't want you involved nor concerned for her wellbeing, nor did she wish to cause conflict between you and the shinigami you have come to cherish," uttered the immortal languorously, taking his sweet time, his words meant to burn and harm "But the truth is, Byakuya treated her like a_ _ **dog**_ _, locking her away, firing her with inquiries, blaming her for what was happening at that time, stapling the word 'treason' upon her like a scarlet letter... Terrible of him,_ _ **isn't**_ _it?"_

 _Here, Ichigo refused to let the other continue, snapping hotly: "Don't speak of him like that."_

" _Oh? Despite his actions and behaviour, you wish to stand up for him also?" asked Aizen with an air of incredulity, eyebrows raising up slow "Aren't you already protecting enough?"_

" _There's_ _ **always**_ _room for others," replied the teenager unwaveringly, tone determined and words earnest "My greatest ambition, my biggest motivation is to protect as many as I can with as much as I can give. That's who I am. I live to protect others."_

 _As he voiced those last two sentences aloud, the Shinigami Substitute then froze, inwardly feeling a dim yet growing panic. He shouldn't have said all that to the immortal of all people._

 _Grimmjow had already warned him before not to carelessly give Aizen anything that could be used to his advantage. And Ichigo had just that. In spades. ...Oh God._

 _Pausing also at the way the other had worded his resolve, Aizen's face changed completely. All trace of wicked humour and scathing sadism abruptly vanished from his features, leaving room to nothing but a blank expression and dark eyes dimming down to an ambiguous shade._

" _Your...greatest_ _ **ambition**_ _, was it?"_

"… _Yeah. Why does this surprise you all of a sudden?" asked Ichigo hesitantly, puzzlement adding itself to his features, not understanding the enigmatic change the immortal just had._

" _Be careful, child," warned the child of chaos in total seriousness, his tone strangely void of mock or conceit "Your intentions are honourable, I will give you that. However, wanting to protect_ _ **everyone**_ _is not just unachievable in itself, but is it also rather_ _ **avid**_ _of you to think that way. Greed is a sin, you know. A rather dangerous one."_

 _And this was coming from a 'Child of Chaos who represented Lust', something Ichigo had yet no clear clue as to what it actually meant._

" _Right. Because what you're going to make me and the others do_ _ **isn't**_ _a sin, that it?" bit back the teen starkly, young eyes narrowing indignantly, while Aizen swiftly went back to smirking._

" _But_ _ **I**_ _alone am responsible, so the sole culprit behind the sin in question is me. Here, we're discussing something that is stemming from your own volition."_

 _Not really following the new turn their conversation had taken, Ichigo just shrugged casually._

 _Meticulously studying the young male for a moment, the child of chaos then stated tellingly, meaningfully: "Know that our dear Kuchiki is truly undeserving of your altruism, believe me. And that will be something you'll come to witness quite soon enough."_

" _I know what you're doing," stressed out the teen fiercely through clenched teeth, prompting the immortal to arch an eyebrow expectantly, patiently waiting for Ichigo to go on "You want me to doubt Bya- Zakura because of your lies. You want to turn me against him. Well, it_ _ **won't**_ _work. Forget it."_

" _...Does it_ _ **look**_ _like I'm lying, Ichigo?"_

 _The immortal's still sparsely loitering anger from before only served as an emphasis to his cruel honesty. And yet the young orange-haired, wordlessly looking away again and frowning deeper, stubbornly maintained his point of view, refusing to doubt the Kuchiki noble._

 _And the immortal easily saw this, yet opted not to push against the other's conviction further._

" _I do not lie," reminded Aizen, before then adding one more thing "All I ask, is that you keep this in mind. You don't_ _ **know**_ _Kuchiki Byakuya. At least, not in the way you think you do."_

" _The heck is your deal?!" snapped Ichigo sharply, recklessly forgetting himself and pounding a fist on the couch, his sudden outburst leading the other's eyes to widen, stunned in silence._

" _You have this- this-" trailed off the teenager, struggling to find the proper word, before then just chucking it away dismissively "I don't know what_ _ **this**_ _is you have with Byakuya. He put you in Muken, so what? You had a bad history with his family, and? You wouldn't go this far, for little things like that. Not you. ...There's_ _ **something**_ _else here. And you're_ _ **hiding**_ _it."_

 _A beat of silence then hung in the air, aggravated brown clashing against astonished brown._

" _Hm. For someone so young, you certainly_ _ **are**_ _quite sharp," mused the immortal aloud, lips parted in disbelief before he chuckled condescendingly, wickedly amused "Alright. I'll tell you this. Byakuya is a vital key that I_ _ **need**_ _in order to keep a certain lid, locked tightly shut. And, in order for that to happen, our dear Kuchiki leader imperatively has to fall down into the darkest depths of degenerate dehumanization."_

 _Frowning deeply, Ichigo attempted to grasp Aizen's cryptic words, but failed: "I don't get it."_

" _That was my intention. It's best you do not fully comprehend the implication behind those words," smirked the child of chaos smoothly, dark eyes twinkling with sinister and shaded intent "Not like anyone else - beside the likes of me - would comprehend the true meaning."_

Mind a total mess, distraught brown eyes flitted over to where the dark-haired male sat on the other side of the room, back again to his private world of meditating, with his eyes closed. Was Ichigo doubting Byakuya? Most certainly not. ...Well, not _really_.

It was just that the immortal's words had instilled a slight level of discomfort in him, because of the undeniable veracity behind them. He did _not_ **know** the Kuchiki noble. Not well enough.

And was certain was that Ichigo wasn't truly one of Byakuya's favourite people. That much was _pretty_ clear...

What he also did know however - despite it being horribly vague - was that Aizen was hell-bent on achieving _something_ , and whatever it was, it was surely nothing good.

Yeah... _Vague_.

Everything the immortal did, his every action, was just mere strategy in the end. Like in a chess game, with a player aiming for the strongest pieces and making them topple down hard, leaving but the weakest in play, unable to do anything but dance around the chessboard.

Personally, Ichigo never liked chess. The thought of sacrificing pieces to win didn't sit well with him at all.

What _did_ the immortal truly want with Byakuya? So many questions, and even less answers...

"You're staring."

"I know," uttered Ichigo softly, feeling somewhat embarrassed at being 'caught' by the other, despite the Kuchiki noble having yet to open his eyes.

"You're not stopping," remarked the dark-haired male, arching an eyebrow as he said so, tone not reprimanding but still slightly stern.

"I know," repeated the Shinigami Substitute just as quietly, looking away this time "Sorry."

A couple of minutes passed, before the shinigami captain's voice rose up again, questioning: "When he kept you behind, Aizen Sosuke spoke about me, didn't he?"

At first, the teenager didn't - couldn't - respond, too startled to do so, wondering how on earth the noble figured it out. They hadn't spoken to each other until these past few minutes, and not since _well_ before their meeting with the immortal had begun.

"Is it that obvious?" ended up asking the orange-haired male, surprise still present in his tone.

This time, Byakuya slowly opened his eyes, locking them right onto Ichigo as he deadpanned: "You're _making_ it obvious."

Chortling sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head, the young orange-haired then sobered and inquired the other, treading cautiously: "Do you want to know what he said?"

The dark-haired male seemed to carefully consider this. But then, he simply shook his head.

"Though I do wish to know, I'm aware that his tongue utters riddles," said Byakuya, before pointing out knowingly "I doubt he was clear, whatever he said to you."

"Tell me about it," agreed the teen, before he then ran his hand over his weary face, letting out an irritated huff "I'm _still_ trying to figure out what he meant. And what he intends to do."

The noble remained silent for a while, a withdrawn, pensive look to his equally tired features, before he then lithely got to his feet and walked over to where the Shinigami Substitute was.

The teen could only stare dumbly as the dark-haired male gestured for to him to scoot over. Complying without thinking, Ichigo did so, leaving room for Byakuya to sit down beside him.

As the teenager stared curiously at the Kuchiki now next to him, the latter tried to find his words, speaking steadily: "There's no sense in deciphering anything he says or does. I would know. Liar he may be not, but he weaves words in such an intricate way that leaves us dumb. And wondering if, initially, we speak the same language. Hence, I'd advise you to let it go."

Blinking in disbelief, Ichigo almost had the impression that the other was reassuring him. But, before the young male could comment on it, Byakuya added dryly: "But knowing you, advice is entirely and utterly lost on you."

"Wow," uttered the other, a hint of amused sarcasm to his tone "You know me _that_ well?"

"Don't flatter yourself, young man," retorted the Kuchiki haughtily, his nose turned up high with an air of disdain to his features, whereas a faint quirk to his lips was the only giveaway to his jesting.

Relaxing to some extent for the first time in the past few chaotic days, Ichigo grinned a little.

It looked like Byakuya had taken it upon himself to call him 'young man' since their 'tagging' process, apparently unable to utter the appellation Aizen had given the teen, but still training himself to not voice aloud Ichigo's actual name.

On a personal note, the orange-haired teenager didn't really mind the substitute Byakuya had chosen for him instead. It wasn't belittling or patronizing in any way. It sounded sympathetic, near warm, if he could dare suggest as such on behalf of the usually cold, reserved shinigami.

"I am _not_ in any way going soft on you," spoke up the shinigami captain all of a sudden, far more serious and steadfast this time around, as if reading the teen's train of thought "Banish that from your mind completely."

Well. There goes that.

Mostly unruffled by the other's distant demeanour by now, Ichigo simply smiled, shaking his head, before the prior conversation held with Aizen came back to mind hauntingly, uninvited.

A frown crossed the Shinigami Substitute's features, as he nervously glanced at the noble, the latter who merely raised an eyebrow, sensing a severe shift in the mood but not mentioning it.

Though not generally this uncertain in his decision-making, the teenager didn't know how to - or if he should - share this bugging fact with the other, not sure what to say or what not to say.

Ichigo didn't see himself _lying_ to the other, but he really didn't want to burden the other with the truth either, given how unclear it was anyways. In truth, the dark-haired male had enough problems as it was.

All of them had.

"Hey, Bya-? Uh..." drawled out the young male hesitantly, earning the shinigami captain's full attention as he nodded to show that he was listening "Can you promise me something?

"If it's something that I have the power to do, then of course," conceded the noble carefully, yet candidly, inwardly speculating where exactly this odd turn of conversation was leading to. But none of his musings prepared him for what the teenager was about to request of him.

" _Please_ , don't change," Ichigo whispered pleadingly, not really knowing why he was asking this, and yet feeling an important, compulsory need to "You're great just the way you are."

Tilting his head slightly, the 6th Division's captain remained quiet, whilst regarding the teen with a hint of curiosity, feeling like he was being hinted something but that he was missing it.

Before he could question the other upon it however, the door suddenly unlocked, key clanging loudly within the keyhole, prior to the entrance opening and letting a blinding light seep in.

Wincing and shielding their eyes, Ichigo and Byakuya both fought a moment to adjust to the sudden difference in lighting, before focusing on the person standing there in the doorway.

It was one of those bulky men in black suits, different than the one they had seen before, but with the similar build and getup - suit and tie, sunglasses, an earpiece and a grim expression. And to the teen, these men looked like bodyguards. Or something close to the _Men in Black_...

"No words," spoke up the man gruffly, unfeelingly, like a robot, talking before either of the two captives could "Just follow. In silence."

Glancing at each other, Ichigo and Byakuya unenthusiastically complied, getting up to their feet and following the bulky man out, before the latter closed the door and began to guide them through whichever labyrinth of corridors they were currently in - something neither of the two got a hang of yet, feeling like they could easily get lost.

As they were led through the brightly lit and lavishly decorated halls, the little troupe passed by a couple of closed doors, a few from which emanated muffled sounds. Sounds which made Ichigo and Byakuya pale a few shades, whilst shuddering with disgust and in discomfort.

Moans and groans of pleasure, low grunts of exertion, soft whimpers of ecstasy, high-pitched screams of bliss, quiet sobs of pain... Heaven forbid, would they have to go through _that_ too?

Not noticing their pace slow down, Byakuya seethed, inwardly burning with ire and shame: "Out of everything that fiend could have done to us, he chose to reduce us to common pros-"

The noble cut himself off fast, stilling his tongue when he spotted, just a few steps ahead, the blonde male from earlier, staring directly at him, a thin eyebrow arched and his smile spiteful.

The male in question - still in the same black leather ensemble as before, along with a cream woollen shawl wrapped around his shoulders - had his arms crossed as he leaned against one of the corridor's walls, apparently waiting for them.

"Oh, don't feel bad to finish that thought of yours," voiced the blonde, tilting his head as he slowly, conceitedly scrutinized the dark-haired male from head to toe, making the latter tense up uneasily "Prostitutes, we are. Harlots, consorts, whores, hoes, and so on and so forth. But _common_? _(Chuckles)_ Surely not. We are all but _that_."

The blonde male snorted as he said so, seemingly rather miffed by the mere thought, before he then smirked broadly, demonically: "Not that obvious to you yet, isn't it? Don't fret, you'll find out soon enough."

"I'd rather not," muttered the noble cynically, whereas the teenager eyed him sympathetically.

Smirking scornfully, the blonde didn't take his eyes off Byakuya's bitter expression, despite addressing the bulk of a man who had done the accompanying: "I'll take it from here."

"Jugo-sama," responded reverently the man, bowing his head curtly before taking his leave.

"Well?" drawled out the blonde condescendingly, an eyebrow raised when neither of the two moved, before he nodded briskly towards a door that laid beside where he stood "Get in."

Highly reluctant, they then wordlessly moved forward and, after Jugo had opened the door, they both went inside first, before nervously looking around the place they had set foot in.

With a Blood Bank Shell's edge to the décor **(3)** , the room was dim lit - all due to a chandelier with soft lights, and flickering candles, inserted within several slots here and there throughout the purple-dyed walls.

A large ornate Queen Size Canopy bed - with dark red curtains, burgundy sheets and mauve pillows - stood out majestically, stridently from within the middle of the windowless chamber.

It was actually the first thing one would _have to_ indisputably lay their eyes on upon entering. It wasn't easy _not_ to notice it.

In addition to the bed, there were a few ebony wooden chairs - shambolically stacked in a corner - and a sizeable maroon leather couch, with a black table nearby. And upon the table were a couple of chest-like boxes stacked on top of one another.

Other than those and a couple of blank paintings, there wasn't much furniture, giving a good view of how vast the space was - the floor carpeted with soft, tinselled red upon black tiles.

There was also another door at the very back of the room, only this one was white as opposed to the black entrance door. It clashed _completely_ with entire dark, sombre tones in this place, and one had to warily wonder what was behind it.

Speaking of which, despite these two predominant colours - of dark red and purple - generally having a soothing effect on people's nerves - and probably used in here for that very reason - it was actually having the _complete_ opposite impact on Ichigo.

Not only was he highly ill-at-ease and unrelaxed, but the teen was also under the impression that the lack of windows was giving him a claustrophobic, stomach-churning feeling, making him feel further caged than he currently was... More so with the black door now being closed.

Casually flipping his long ponytailed hair, Jugo steadily paced in, with graceful strides of his long leather-clad legs, as he headed directly for the couch.

Reaching it, he sat down, crossing his legs and leaning back in an elegant fashion, before he contemplatively eyed the other two, head tilted to the side with dark aloofness to his features.

There was something about this individual - in addition to both the hint of sadistic cruelty and the dripping lust he had displayed earlier - that just pretentiously exuded self-importance, like he was better than everyone, and that no one could reach whatever echelon he stood upon.

"Only two, huh?" finally voiced the blonde after a moment of coercing the two to endure his unnerving scrutiny, leaving them tense and dreading what would occur the moment he'd stop.

Upon seeing puzzlement flit over their features, the blonde male clarified his words further: "Apparently, I'm guessing that pretty Tiger - the guy with blue hair who came with you - isn't inexperienced like you two are. He must be on the field already."

Jugo uttering the word 'inexperienced' made the teen and the noble to frown, both bothered and irritated by it, which led the Twilight's tedious expression to turn into wicked amusement.

"Oh dear, hit a nerve, have I? See, I _would_ have said _innocent_ , but given that you're no longer _virgins_ , it wouldn't be _accurate_ , now would it?" articulated the blonde leisurely, sadistically revelling in their discomfort and dismay, before he leaned forward with the air of a paparazzi seeking dirty, juicy gossip "So, how _was_ the first time you did the nasty, hm?"

When the two remained utterly mute, with Ichigo stiffening and Byakuya clenching his jaw, the blonde smirked cruelly, darkly entertained.

"Unpleasant, I'm sure," he concluded apathetically as he waved a hand, before he uttered his next words dispassionately, tone still as unkind and patronizing "Believe me, whatever was done to you, is _nothing_ compared to what awaits you two in here."

"That remains to be seen."

Suddenly looking like he had just achieved something huge, Jugo appeared to be somewhat titillated, due to the fact that the noble had raised his voice, confidence in the latter's tone.

"That so? Care to clarify on that, candy boy?"

Byakuya's eyebrow twitched near imperceptibly, rather displeased with this new nickname, before something abruptly snapped. A small rational part of him told him it was his patience...

Fed up with the blonde's vituperative attitude, the Kuchiki's grey eyes narrowed at the other's condescending, contempt-filled features - while pushing himself to briefly overlook the very uneasy feeling this youthful blonde male instilled within him.

"I am not intimidated by empty threats," stressed out the dark-haired male staunchly, causing Jugo's eyebrows to fly upwards.

" _ **Empty**_ _threats_?" he echoed incredulously, before he cackled heartily, smiling unpleasantly at the glaring noble "Hell. If I simply despised you before, I certainly do _loathe_ you now."

Whereas the shinigami captain remained outwardly indifferent, Ichigo tilted his head subtly, his brow furrowed with a pondering expression to his features as he stared at the blonde male.

It was plainly obvious, even before Jugo openly stated it, that he had a problem with Byakuya. And it truly appeared to be more than just mere resentment, at least, in the teenager's opinion.

Swiftly getting to his feet, the blonde strolled directly over to the Kuchiki until they were face to face, before Jugo sneered, his voice menacingly low and snider than anything he had uttered prior: "Don't _speak_ of what you don't _know_ , candy boy. In fact, you know _nothing_."

Neither willing to back down, the blonde and the dark-haired males stared each other down resentfully, whilst Ichigo bit his lip restlessly, expecting them to lash out and tear each other down at any moment now, but not daring to interfere.

"Suzuki-sama's orders are _absolute_ ," accentuated Jugo potently, an edge of threat to his voice as he glared down loftily at the Kuchiki noble "Show displeasure or disgust if that makes you any feel better, resist a little for perks or whatever, but _never_ disobey him. Though defiance entertains him, he is not _that_ fond of disobedience, and we Twilights like it even less. We are _not_ lenient like he appears to be. And really, you have more to fear from us than you do from him anyway. You do something, _anything_ that infringes the rules here - _his_ rules - and we'll be more than glad to let him know. And, if I'm not wrong, Suzuki-sama _did_ tell you that there were consequences, if you _dared_ to something along those lines, didn't he?"

Whilst Byakuya again remained without reaction, merely resorting to lividly glaring in silence and bristling on the inside, Ichigo, his nerves on edge, nodded instead in response to the other.

Seeing the movement out of the corner of his eye, the blonde Twilight declared relentlessly as he languidly pulled away from the noble: "Then keep yourself frequently in check, because these consequences are _not_ something you'd _ever_ want to happen."

"I can take it," stated the Kuchiki firmly, assertively, while judiciously deciding it best not to include nor to speak on the teenager's behalf, as to not put the latter in a precarious situation.

"I'm sure you can," laughed Jugo scathingly with a clear expression showing that he did _not_ believe the noble for one second, before he regarded the dark-haired male with vicious malice in his unfeeling, stony green eyes "Only, who said _you_ would be on the receiving end?"

At this, Ichigo and Byakuya went right rigid, paling, whilst the blonde just raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. Suzuki-sama didn't _actually_ give you the _exact_ details - of what would happen to those you care for - if you went wrong? ...Well, Suzuki-sama _is_ diplomatic like that," he shrugged, before a horribly ruthless, foreboding smile touched Jugo's lips "I, on the other hand, have _no_ qualms about being tactless. And I'll tell you _all_ about it, when you least expect it."

After a beat of oppressive, suspenseful silence, the blonde dropped his menacing expression, leaving room for his previous boredom to return to his features: "Shall we get to work then?"

The way the blonde male could easily and promptly alter his features entirely, in but a couple of seconds, was stupefying, making one question how truthful any of his talk actually was.

But, for a conscious and cautious mind, it was far too risky to dare label his vague words as possible bluff. They couldn't afford to pretend or believe that such a thing could never occur, not with Aizen still standing firm behind the scenes...

Realizing that they had yet to react the blonde's inquiry, the pair then hurriedly nodded - the teenager mechanically and the noble rigidly - not quite trusting their voices right now.

A smug smile of satisfaction touched the blonde's lips as he finally went back to sit down on the couch, lethal suave and grace to his every given move.

"Good. Now, that we're clear," drawled out Jugo languidly, before he tilted his head faintly, a cruel gleam to his coldblooded green eyes as he firmly ordered "Take off your clothes."

It took a moment for the two males to register the other's command and then, when it finally hit home, the Kuchiki narrowed his eyes in displeasure whereas as a tint of red touched the teen's cheeks as he scowled uneasily.

But as the Twilight impatiently raised an eyebrow at their stalling, Ichigo and Byakuya forced themselves to do as they were told, attempting to set their discomfort and indignation aside.

As the Kuchiki rigidly reached for the laces at the back of his top, hastening to get this over with, the Shinigami Substitute was a lot more hesitant, not knowing where to start, along with that nagging fact that he had to get naked - _again_ \- in front of others.

Ichigo wasn't _really_ particularly ashamed of his body - many battles had seen him with rip-offed clothes and exposed skin after all - but, right now, with what was _intended_ for them, he was made, forced, to feel an unendurable, heavy sense of shame... Pushing that aside for now, the teenager sighed inaudibly, resignedly, as he bent down to take of his boots and-

"Oh, no, no, _no_. Not like _that_."

The pair instantaneously halted in their movements - with Byakuya already topless by now - as the blonde spoke up, prompting them to look and see that Jugo held an expression caught somewhere between appalled and amused.

"Come on, boys," chided the Twilight snootily, as he rolled his eyes and scoffed deridingly "You'll _never_ turn on anyone like that. Go ahead and put that back on."

Irked and unnerved, the noble glared silently - yet, with brusque movements, complied with the other's order anyways - whereas the blonde male chuckled and shook his head at them, which led the Kuchiki noble to clench his teeth even tighter, jaw growing numb.

That blonde varlet was unmistakeably mocking them, and, quite visibly, _enjoyed_ doing so too.

Sitting up from his reclined position, Jugo's features changed yet again as he gazed at the other two with half-lidded eyes, speaking lethargically in a soft, velvety smooth voice: "When you're asked to take your clothes _off_ , it's not _just_ about getting undressed."

One of the blonde's hands then rose and slowly went to set itself on the other, gently touching down, finger after finger, all while Jugo didn't once change his expression or the timbre of his tone, as he carried on talking.

"The directive in itself demands a show. As such, it all has to have a certain... _sensuality_ to it."

The hand was now delicately inching its way, leisurely alternating between deft touches as the gloved fingers made their gradual ascension up the Twilight's arm.

"Slow and seductive."

Reaching the shawl upon his shoulders, the seeking digits caressed a few rumples in the cloth, before heading all the way to the left-hand corner, where the knot held the garment together.

"Teasing. Tempting. _Inciting_."

Instead of taking off the cloth, the fingers skirted around the issue, dancing around the knot, touching it, but not yet removing it, before suddenly, in one swift movement, the knot was undone and the shawl slipped free from the blonde's slender shoulders.

"And make, whoever is watching, _dying_ to see _more_."

Somewhere through his illustration, a few stray strands of his pale hair had fallen across his face and shaded his eyes, giving them a predatory allure, a magnetic effect, a daring toxicity...

And despite being highly put off by their entire situation, neither Ichigo nor Byakuya had the ability to look away from the other, stilled stiff like ones would be under a Medusa-like stare.

It was only when Jugo shifted his gaze, laughing darkly, that the other two came back to their senses, dazed and blinking confusedly.

The pair hesitantly, warily focused back on the Twilight - seemingly racking their brains as to what just happened - but the blonde, though wildly entertained by their bewilderment, merely nodded in their direction, denying them the possibility to dwell on the matter: "Again."

Retaining in mind that unknown 'consequences' lingered and lurked like a Damocles sword should they refuse, the noble and the teen once again wordlessly did as they were told, both attempting their best to imitate what the other had just showed them.

Only, their movements were all fingers and thumbs, clumsily inept at incorporating grace and suave in their undressing - Ichigo more so than Byakuya at least - with their restlessness and mortification as additional hindrances.

So much was their tension, the dark-haired male ripped at a corner of his close-fitted jeans, and the teenager barely caught himself from tripping as he struggled to remove his boots.

And it did _not_ help that the blonde was sniggering from behind his hand every now and then.

Dumping their shed clothes to the side and now standing stiffly in nothing but their underwear shorts, the pair slowly shifted their attention to the blonde, anxiously awaiting the next step. But apparently, they were still stuck in the first one.

"I never asked you to _stop_ , did I?"

Letting out a shuddering, strained breath and closing his eyes, the young orange-haired male, though highly reluctant, braced himself, removing the last article of clothing at the same time as the vividly glaring shinigami captain.

Now that they were completely stark-naked, the blonde, features expressionless, took his time to eye them from head to toe, heightening the pair's humiliation even further.

Along with the unbearable silence, it wasn't enough that Jugo was scrutinizing them in detail, lazily running his gaze along every inch of their bodies, but that he'd _purposely_ go on and let his stony green eyes linger between their legs, was mortifying to no end.

Face burning red, the teen instinctively reacted, hands jumping forwards to block the other's view, before he scowled at the blonde, who in turn just snickered scathingly prior to shifting his attention to the dark-haired male.

Unlike Ichigo however, Byakuya remained absolutely still, still as a statue, with fists clenched tightly to his sides and his head held up, if not high.

No mistake to be made, he too was outrageously uncomfortable and, mostly, degraded by this situation, but he had no desire whatsoever to give the blonde the satisfaction of knowing how he really felt...beyond the fact that his eyes - _so_ expressive, as it had been mentioned by Aizen so many times **(4)** \- were surely darkened with murderous rage by now.

Again, just like earlier, Jugo and Byakuya found themselves at a standstill, the air around them thick with hauteur and hostility as they darkly glared daggers at each other, with the teen once more wondering why the blonde was this adamant on acting so bizarrely with the noble.

Humming pensively to himself, the blonde cast one last, long, calculating look over their bare figures, before uttering yet another directive as he casually rid himself of his gloves: "Now touch each other."

Despite the clarity of the order, the two froze entirely, along with Ichigo's jaw dropping open.

"Was that far too vague for you?" inquired Jugo incredulously as neither moved, before he stared straight into their widened, horrified eyes "Or was it too complicated? I can't tell."

"I- I don't think that's a good idea," voiced Ichigo nervously, stammering without meaning it, letting out words to which the blonde's green eyes instantly narrowed.

"Didn't you get a word I tired myself telling you just now? What did I _say_ about disobeying?"

"No, I-! I have _no_ intention to!" exclaimed the other hurriedly, really not looking forward to the Twilight jumping to hasty conclusions.

Truthfully, upon the blonde's order, Ichigo had instantly recalled that Byakuya had told him - and Grimmjow - that he was not used to nor fond of being touched, for various reasons **(2)**.

Swallowing uneasily, the distraught teen cautiously attempted to say what he meant, but his restlessness deprived him of a clear fluency: "It's just- He and I don't- We- I really don't want him to be uncomfortable. He doesn't get along with me that well, so I really don't think-"

But he didn't get to carry on as Jugo burst out laughing, whilst Byakuya stared at the teenager, astonished and powerless to utter a single word.

At first, the 6th Division's captain had been confused as to why the teen had voiced his initial disagreement - initially supposing that it had to do with apprehension of the act in itself - but when he heard that the young orange-haired male's arguments involved _him_ in person, the dark-haired shinigami was at loss for words.

Though not quite yet used to it, the Kuchiki knew by now the other to be caring and gallant to a fault, however he would have never imagined that, even in their actual predicament, Ichigo would persist and try to put the noble's wellbeing before his own. Just how selfless could this boy be?

"Oh, you poor, _poor_ child. Sex is _sex_. You don't need to ' _get along_ ' with someone in order to fuck them," commented Jugo sardonically, chuckling still, before he paused and amended his statement with a smirk "Or rather, have _them_ fuck _you_ , which is far more accurate in your soon-to-be-case."

Despite shuddering at the crudeness of the Twilight's words, the young male still tenaciously held on to his point of view, vehemence fuelling his tongue: "But forcing someone - anyone - into it against their will doesn't _make_ it right! S-Sex is...is supposed to be done _with_ someone, not _to_ them!"

By now, the teenager's whole frame was trembling, lips tightened, but with his locks shading his eyes, the noble couldn't tell if he was shaking out of distress, loathing, anger...or all three.

As for Byakuya, in addition to the suffocating humiliation and horror, he had this strongest - and utterly ludicrous - impulse to make the blonde male just keep his mouth _shut_ , the latter's contemptuous voice and obscene words grating on his nerves, likes fingernails on chalkboard.

Only, the Kuchiki's tongue felt like lead in his mouth, too heavy to use. His rigidly clenched fists however, were feeling incredibly light at the moment...

Noting the dark-haired's anger darken even further out of the corner if his eye, the Twilight smirked malevolently, but kept his rapt attention on the orange-haired male for the meantime.

What could he say? Although he had been given clear instructions, Jugo couldn't help but be rather intrigued by the teen. He was just...so interesting, both in his reactions and in mind-set.

"Do you _really_ expect _anyone_ here to see it your way? You're _so_ gullible, dear boy. So naïve. What are you, sixteen?" jested the blonde male tauntingly, an eyebrow arched upwards as he smirked with broad mockery, finding the young male's humanity oh-so candid and juvenile.

The Twilight felt like laughing again. How cute.

But when Ichigo startled badly at his question, alarmed shock to his painfully honest features, the blonde male's snide expression fell, stony green eyes going wide: "Oh, wait. ...You _are_?"

Not needing confirmation as the question had been totally redundant given the teen's reaction, this fact seemed to throw off Jugo entirely, his features now completely and utterly blank.

' _It is best not to let anyone know of your age, Ichigo. Patrons and dolls alike,'_ had said Aizen, so the young orange-haired male was genuinely horrified by how quickly he was found out.

A tense moment passed - with even Byakuya rather concerned as to what this person might do with this newly acquired information - prior to the blonde standing up again, slow and swift, and, this time, wordlessly making his way over to where the stiff Shinigami Substitute stood.

As he reached the young male, the noble watched on warily as the blonde male - features still unreadable - let his eyes roam over the young male, assessing the latter all over again with even more attention than earlier, as if, probably, seeing the teenager in a new light.

Breathing restless and strained but standing as immobile as he could, Ichigo tried to not let the other's silent, critical scrutinising bother him, staring hard at the wall beyond the blonde's shoulder in order to give him a focal point. But the whole situation was just too unnerving, and he could hear his own heart thumping erratically, like a beating drum. ...What now?

"Oh," uttered Jugo eventually, before a lovely, amiable smile gradually graced his features, yet not a drop of it was genuine, all artificial "Ok. I'll take your age into consideration then."

However neither Ichigo nor Byakuya were left reassured or at ease by the blonde's pretty fake smile. And quite rightfully so.

As suddenly as it had appeared, the beaming features brutally vanished, leaving room to an ever colder expression than anything seen prior to now, as the Twilight sharply wrapped an unrelenting hand around the teenager's neck in a bruising hold, and clamped down hard.

With the young male struggling to take in air, Byakuya, alarmed, took a rushed step forward, ready to interfere, but before he do anything else, the sound of a loud crack rattled the air.

In his free hand, Jugo was now brandishing a whip, which came from absolutely nowhere - unless it had been concealed somewhere on his person - before he gave the stilled, stunned noble a cool, dark look as he spoke commandingly: "If you don't mind, candy boy, _back off_."

Whereas the Kuchiki noble - though narrowing his eyes in response - was too taken aback to do further, Ichigo, somewhere between aggravation and distress, tried to pry himself free from the other's iron grip, but it was to no avail. Though physically lean and lithe, the blonde male was absurdly and ridiculously strong...

"If you start believing in rubbish like that _now_ , you'll be nothing but a wreck for the rest of your existence here, _boy_ ," stressed out the Twilight viciously - now focusing on the teen and lessening his hold so the other could breathe and focus on what Jugo was saying - before his icy eyes grew even darker, harsher "A person having sex with another. Do you know what it means, when it happens in a place like _this_? When something like that happens, it means _not_ acknowledging the partner on the receiving end, looking down on them. Most people want what they've never had. To embrace the forbidden. So they come here to get what they want, when they want it, with whom they want it, without anyone to stop them. There's no freedom in _Débauche_ for the dolls. You'd better get used to it."

Horror-struck, distraught Ichigo felt as though the Twilight's words had burnt him, scalding his soul, making his entire being poisoned and rotten.

He wanted to curve over and retch all that noxious pain out. However, just before reaching the point where he'd fully dislike the other for making him feel this way, he realized something. That this screaming, searing, poisonous pain presently pervading him deep down, wasn't his...

Before Ichigo could dwell any longer upon this strange occurrence, Jugo swiftly pulled away, breaking contact and taking that vivid sensation of pain away with him, leaving nothing but a slight sick feeling to the teenager's stomach and a slow growing question in mark in his mind.

Both unaware of what the young male had just underwent, with Jugo overlooking Ichigo's present quietness either as submission or fright, the noble moved a little closer to the teen, carefully checking if the latter was alright, to which Ichigo nodded mutely with a small smile.

Aware that the teenager wasn't being fully sincere, the shinigami captain sighed softly, before shifting his grey eyes to glare witheringly at the blonde, just as the latter began to speak again.

"In _Débauche_ , it is a _must_ to fulfil a patron's desire. Anything they want, anything they wish, you _will_ give and provide to your full potential. If they ask you to touch another, you'll _have to_ do it. Hence, exploring is important. Knowing what and where to touch, when to do it, how to do it, with all the erogenous areas and pleasure points hidden in the body to be found and exploited at their full potential," enunciated Jugo imperturbably, smoothly falling back into his character as the pair's 'mentor', all while maintaining the other two males' glares with a dark, unrelenting look of his own.

Threateningly rearranging his whip with slow, measured, conspicuous movements, the blonde Twilight drawled out steadily, a snide smirk to his lips as Ichigo and Byakuya tensed again: "Now, I won't ask a third time, boys. _Touch_ each other."

Jaw clenching painfully as to not speak - scream - his mind, the noble immediately closed his eyes tight shut, as the weight of the situation finally dawned on him, no longer able to deny it.

Images swam throughout his head as he found himself recalling how the former Arrancar had - though upon Aizen's orders - forced his way into him, and Byakuya honestly did not know if he could withstand such an assault ever again. Or rather, as his soon-to-be-case, on a regular and repetitive basis.

...Was this what he was to be reduced to? Was there nothing he could do or say against this? No, of course not. He gave himself up to the immortal, unwillingly, but he _still_ did. Byakuya had done it to spare, to protect those he loved. Hence, it was fairly clear to him by now that he had no choice. But he just couldn't- He was unable to-

Upon feeling an uncertain, unsteady hand slowly set upon his bare arm, the dark-haired male slowly opened his eyes again, silently taking in the young male beside him, seeing the latter's eyes desperately convey how apologetic and just as reluctant Ichigo was about this.

When he saw that Byakuya had withdrawn himself entirely and remained utterly immobile, the Shinigami Substitute bravely took it upon himself to initiate the blonde male's directive, not quite daring to draw whatever consequence their delay might bring.

Nervous, he was distinctly on edge - vividly aware of the other's inhibitions - as he tentatively laid his fingers upon the noble's warm, bare skin, and when the Kuchiki focused on him, his apprehension heightened as he wondered how mad the other was by his impulsive decision.

Still silent and unmoving, grey eyes unhurriedly lowered to glance at the teenager's hand, and from the latter's perspective, it almost looked like the noble was considering ripping his limb apart. Not wishing to risk upsetting the 6th Division's captain further than he already was, the teen began to pull away, but, before he could get too far, the Kuchiki quickly caught his hand.

Startled, Ichigo darted his widened, worried eyes upon Byakuya's unreadable expression.

Ever so slowly, the dark-haired male wordlessly drew the young male's hand upwards, up to the level of his shoulder, before carefully, gently setting it there, his grey eyes never leaving the young male's brown ones.

Blinking at first, the Shinigami Substitute quickly found a sense of familiarity in this position **(2)** , and his increasing anxiety fell down a notch, the tension in his frame lessening a little.

Though it was utterly unnerving, Ichigo tried to hold the other's gaze and concentrate on it solely, his brown eyes mutely pleading for some sort of guidance from the noble, hoping that, if the latter organized their movements, the following moments would go easily for them.

But for Byakuya mostly. Because, for some reason, Ichigo had that sinking sensation again that something very bad was going to happen to the Kuchiki noble.

He just couldn't tell when.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _Dire straits_

 _And dirty consequences_

 _An invitation_

 _To your personal disaster_

 _ **(Can't Sleep, Can't Breathe, by Digital Daggers)**_

Amidst the noise and chatter, Grimmjow - out in the far corner, where he stood guardedly - stared, blue eyes darting hither and thither, feeling somewhat disorientated and out of place.

After being dragged around by that hulking, brute of a man in a suit, the latter had shoved him into the grand, main hall from earlier, before telling the former Espada that tonight was a 'Mingle Night' and that he ought to just do his job until the 'Open Hours' were over.

And then the man left, just like that, leaving the blue-haired male with a heap of questions - for, despite knowing the basics of what _Débauche_ was (as Aizen had once brought him here), _a lot_ had changed since then - in addition to a growing sense of uneasiness.

Back in the Hueco Mundo, running into a fellow Hollow was a scarce occurrence - unless the Hollow was initially travelling in a herd - and any hordes were an even a rarer happenstance.

So, with the hall packed and gushing with so _many_ people - a far cry from how empty it had been before - Grimmjow felt that he had been thrown into the water, and that now, he was drowning. Not the most pleasant feeling.

With lavish, ornate masks to conceal their identities, the crowd of people, of every gender, were neatly trimmed and pristine clean, all of them wearing distorted depictions of wealth made to appear transcendent, refinement to their movements and panache to their voices **(5)**.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes with disgust. He might no longer be human, but that didn't mean he was a fool. It was common knowledge that people of power were the ones with the sickest and most twisted of tendencies, hence them being in a place like this.

The feline wasn't in the least bit intimidated, but he did sense himself to be rather ill-at-ease. And this vibe of pressure - under the guise of an unforthcoming and inimical glare - seemed to have its effect, as none of those who glanced at him - although seemingly engrossed by him, eyeing him with fascination and awe - seemed to have the necessary courage to approach him.

Instead, they'd gravitate, like merciless bees, over to other dolls that enticingly cut the crowd.

A subtle, smug smirk touched his lips. Having them far too craven to get close was a feat that could definitely be to his benefit. Now, all he had to do was figure out how the freaking hell-

"Hey. You don't seem to be busy. Do you think you can-?"

Blue eyes wide, the stiffened male glanced to his side to glimpse a young, petite yet tall childlike-looking girl, her gloved hand patting at his arm as she sought to catch his attention.

Grimmjow was quick to recognize her, despite her being dressed very differently - wearing a pair of faded jeans and an oversized white sweater, along leather brown ankle boots, darker brown gloves and a thick choker for accessories.

It was that magenta-haired girl that had bumped into Ichigo earlier. And if the blue-haired male guessed it correctly, she 'worked' here too, right?

Cue to his stunned reaction.

 _None_ of the dolls - apart from Leona when she had escorted him and the other two, and also Millie and Tora, as the latter pair had washed and dressed them - had willingly interacted with him so far, yet alone touched him - at least not in a _normal_ way.

Truth to be told, apart from the show of unconditional spite or when they had to no choice but to pitch together, the dolls seemed to be highly reluctant to interact with one another, period.

The surprise must have figured on his features because she paused, her large magenta eyes looking for something to suggest that she had it in any way wrong, before she tilted her head: "You _are_ a doll...right?"

"Fuckin' unfortunately," he drawled out bitterly, reigning in his former reaction as an irritable glare crossed his features instead and he harshly dug his hands in his pockets.

"I know, right?" she remarked lightly with a one-armed shrug, before reflectively looking him over, notably taking in his build and face in detail "Well, you _are_ all muscle, compared to the scarce demographic of guys here. Also, you have a scary face - no offense - but that's a plus."

Quirking up an incredulous eyebrow at her mumbled musings, Grimmjow stared as she eyed him a little longer, before she nodded to herself, and then asked him: "Want to come with?"

"...Where to?" he asked coolly, despite his wary stare and the careful vigilance in his stance.

The blue-haired feline hadn't forgotten - when he and the other two had crossed paths with her earlier - the very odd sensation of deadliness emanating from this seemingly ordinary girl.

Her features were the epitome of blankness. She showed _nothing_ , and was impossible to read.

"See, I need to have an intimidating impression, for this meeting I've got right now. But as you can most assuredly tell, I can't _really_ claim to make that kind of impact. Help a girl out?"

Her description contradicted _entirely_ what the former Arrancar had just mentally pointed out.

With a youthful appearance accentuated by her lengthy twin pigtails, she very much looked like a little girl, with a soft, sweet lilt to her juvenile tone of voice. A portrayal of innocence.

But, eerily enough, the blue-haired male was _not_ swayed by any of it. She looked...artificial. And her features, her iridescent eyes in particular, were very cold. _Very_ cold. Ice. Frozen.

True, she didn't _appear_ dangerous, but she undeniably _felt_ dangerous. And, for some reason, just as intimidating. She gave off this vibe, this aura, which only an idiot would dare provoke.

The how and why pertaining to the danger she felt like, were where he couldn't make it clear.

Still on his guard, the feline drawled out lazily, shrugging: "What's fuckin' in it for me?"

Blinking her large eyes up at him, she _looked_ somewhat taken aback as she uttered: "Sorry?"

"What do _I_ fuckin' get if I help you?"

The girl nearly smiled, broadly entertained. Sosuke was right. This piece of work had attitude.

"Well, first of, I can offer a night free of the nasty," she suggested sombrely - skilfully hiding the humour she was feeling under a perfect mask of aloofness - before highlighting what truly mattered to her "But, let's see how _well_ you help me out. And then, we'll figure something."

"I've got no fuckin' guarantee like _that_ ," observed Grimmjow, his vivid blue eyes narrowed with scepticism "You could be lying."

"I _could_ be. But, if you don't tag along, you'll never know, right? Got anything to lose? Or maybe it's just that you're too chicken?"

Knowingly biting at her bait but too peeved to care, the blue-haired growled out, tone low: "Lead the fuckin' way, girl."

"Atta boy," she praised dryly, easily ignoring him when he glared at her, before she gestured for him to follow "Let's go."

Taking the corridor on the right, the feline closely shadowed the girl as she led the way, the resounding clamour of the crowded hall dying little by little with every step further they took.

"What's your tag?" she questioned after a moment, her tone candied and childish, despite the chilling and eerie emptiness it held.

"Pantera," replied the blue-haired feline smoothly, relatively used to the appellation by now. Aizen had utilised it a lot beforehand, on several separate occasions, so... It wasn't that new.

"Ok. I'll have to keep that mind," she stated with a nod, noticing his detachment upon voicing his tag, before her focus strayed to the side all of a sudden "Wait. Pit stop. Give me a second."

Shifting from her initial trajectory, the girl gracefully sauntered over towards one of the doors and knocked upon it, loud and firm, before taking a step back and waiting unwearyingly.

She didn't have to wait long as, barely a few seconds later, the door opened briskly, revealing that blonde Twilight guy from earlier, with an impatient, irritated expression to his features.

To say that Grimmjow was staggered was an understatement. Given that _all_ the doors within the hallway looked exactly the same, how would one so _easily_ know which one was which?

Upon seeing who it was, the blonde glared at the girl and hissed out venomously: "I'm _busy_."

Unimpressed by his belligerence, the magenta-haired girl merely raised her eyebrows at him, arms crossing, voice bored stiff: "So am I. But we both know why I'm here. How's it going?"

Apart from a twitch of his eyebrow, his features remained rigid as he seethed out: " _Perfectly_."

At that, despite keeping a straight face, her tone shifted towards a more scathing pitch, as if holding back a snicker, but quite clearly making fun of him: "You usually lie better, Jugo."

Jaw clenching with aggravation, the blonde Twilight stubbornly stayed silent for a moment, before he shook his head and sighed heavily with annoyance: "I can't get a reaction. At least not one that was truly intended. As _loathe_ as I am to admit this, maybe you should take over."

Jugo then eyed her with a striven look, as though it _really_ pained him to admit such a thing to her, but, this time, she really did respond with a scoff, a very brief deriding flicker in her eyes.

"That wasn't what was asked of me," she reminded frigidly, mien still outwardly impassive, before she then pointed at him for emphasis "This is _your_ job."

"Which is becoming a _problem_ for me. Suzuki-sama is expecting a report later on in the night, but I won't get _anywhere_ if it carries on like this. And I am _**not**_ putting up with it longer than I have to," declared the blonde in a heated whisper, his tone almost bordering upon hysterics, before he lowered his head a little, features taut "Help me out. _Please_."

While Grimmjow had been listening and perked up more attentively at the mention of Aizen's name in this place, the girl wordlessly considered the blonde with a vacant expression, before she exhaled heavily and then, standing on the tip of her toes, whispered in the Twilight's ear.

Their discussion now on mute to his ears, the feline could only watch as Jugo listened intently to the voice at his ear, his stony green eyes growing wider with every word she uttered to him.

As she pulled back, finished, the Twilight slowly arched an eyebrow at her: "Are you sure?"

"When done to the right people, nothing stings as much, believe me," she revealed loosely, her features not betraying a single hint of emotion. It was currently just as empty as her tone...

 _Chilling_.

Jugo seemed to be deeply considering whatever he had been told, before eventually nodding: "I'll give it a go."

"You do that," she waved off impassively, before she wordlessly beckoned for Grimmjow to follow as she began to stroll away, leisurely throwing to the blonde one last titbit of advice "And if it works, I'd brace myself if I were you."

Trailing after the magenta-haired girl as she walked off, the former Arrancar glanced over his shoulder at Jugo who - upon catching those blue eyes trained on him - winked flirtatiously and then smirked wickedly, lethal pretentiousness returned to his features, before he retreated back into the room and shut the door to the blue-haired male's face.

Brow furrowing, the feline found himself rather curious as to what the blonde's conversation with the girl had just been about - other than he could tell that it had been fishy beyond doubt.

And, if he recalled well, weren't the Twilights whom the child of chaos had specifically asked for to 'take care' of both Ichigo and Byakuya? Were those two even alright to begin with, wherever they were at the moment? Questions and even more questions, would they ever end?

Carrying on their way down the hall, they didn't stop until they reached the very end, where a door - similar to all the other doors of the hall, cream-coloured with golden knobs - stood facing them. Via a small bronze key, the magenta-haired girl unlocked the door, opening it on a dim and narrow stairwell that led downwards, before - after pocketing the key again - she turned on a switch and started descending the stairs.

As the two went down for a while, they came across yet another door - this one of steel and metal - and, just as Grimmjow was questioning the number of _doors_ this place had, the girl halted in her footsteps and spoke up to the blue-haired male with a severe tone of seriousness.

"What's going to happen now, is that I'll be talking to these guys and I need you to just look as mean and as intimidating as possible," she explained monotonously, all while she daintily rearranged her make-up with the tips of her fingers "So bring out your battle face."

"My... _battle_ face?" repeated Grimmjow disbelievingly, staring at her as if she had suddenly grown a second head, whilst she rolled her eyes with a sigh, before curtly turning to face him.

The blue-haired male was clearly wary of her, undeniably sensing what most uncommon folk would when around her. And yet, he did not seem afraid - cautious, but not afraid - actually talking back to her, not an ounce of respect in his tone.

She briefly wondered if this is what Sosuke had to put up with from this rebellious guy's part.

Filing that for later, she recalled something else, looking at him with significance: "One more thing. Don't interfere, at all."

"So, be a fuckin' prop with a scary face," stated the former Espada dryly, nodding his head with a deadpan expression "Got it."

"You a _real_ charm, aren't you? How refreshing," she pointed out sarcastically, shaking her head at his words, before she closed her eyes and, taking a long, deep breath, opened the door.

Beyond the entranceway was a large and vast basement-like area, lightened just enough for darkness to still be present, shadowing the corners, in which were stashed several crates.

As the girl gracefully walked on forth, the blue-haired feline's eyes strayed off quizzically, his steps slowing down a bit as he eyed the mountains of wooden, mildew-scented crates.

Some of them, with the lid halfway open, held a messed clutter of many undiscernible...stuff. But when getting a little accustomed to the lighting, it was possible to make out what looked like to be many faceless heads and lifeless limbs, protruding gruesomely at impossible angles.

The blue-haired male's first reaction was to cringe, shivers running down his back. However, upon tentatively looking again, he recognized those parts to be just like the 'body' he was in.

Ok... That aside, _what_ were those things? Spare parts? Future victims? ...Previous victims?

Nope. These were questions, on the other hand, he _really_ didn't need or want answered. _Ever_.

Shoving all of that away and speeding up his pace to join the child-like girl further ahead, the feline pulled himself together, focusing all his attention on the scene gradually coming to be.

In front of them, stood two middle-aged and elegantly clad men - one tall and lanky with an agreeable face, and the other small and stout, his mien unpleasant and hostile - with two other men accompanying them, much younger and with a thug air to their clothing. Grimmjow even sharply spied the figures of firearms concealed in the latter two's oversized vests.

Behind them, a big, black sleek van - with no license plate - and further in the back, a metallic curtain of what looked like an immense garage door, sealed shut.

With an eerily lifeless and frozen smile now plastered to her lips, the magenta-haired girl gave the two men a courteous reverence, her stagnant tone decorous: "Good evening, gentlemen."

"Pleasure to see you again, dear," stated the tall man, just as cordially, a soft smile to his face.

"Yes," muttered the small plump man, glaring hotly at her "That sure is the keyword. _**Again**_."

As the tall, lanky man stiffened, the girl, face blank other than her stilled smile, lethargically turned her gaze towards the other.

"Something troubling you, Majima-san?" she asked politely, head tilted as she observed him.

"There is. _Where_. Is. Suzuki-san? I'd rather deal with him than his cunt errand girl," snarled Majima spitefully, nastily, while the young men sneered and the lanky man inhaled sharply.

Even the former Arrancar was very much taken aback by the man's blatantly audacious insult.

Blue eyes promptly darted over to check what her reaction to the slur was, but to his big surprise, her features were still impassive, not a twitch in her expression. Nor an alteration in her voice, as she slickly countered back just as loosely: "As far as I know, aren't you also here on your boss's behalf? Wouldn't that make you _his_ errand boy, Majima-san?"

The feline watched, subtly amused, as vivid vexation coloured Majima's features, before the latter glared darkly to the side and seethed angrily under his breath: "Fuckin' bitch."

As Grimmjow's eyes narrowed this time - leading the two young men to tense - while the girl once again didn't react at all, the lanky man hastily tried to save face: "Oh, come now. How horrid. _Must_ you be so rude? To _this_ darling girl on top of that? Have you no shame?"

"It is quite alright, Fukaku-san. Majima-san is _entirely_ free to express himself," she offered generously, her entire demeanour now replaced by an epitome of sugary loveliness, her words causing the short, plump man to snort, but the man named Fukaku just laughed nervously, manifestly not agreeing with her.

Focusing back on the pugnacious, stout man, the girl gave him a fraudulent air of benevolent understanding: "I _totally_ sympathize with your frustration, Majima-san. However, the Master is a _very_ busy man, as you well know. He has yet to return from his business trip and he-"

"For _this_ long?!" exclaimed Majima vividly, roughly cutting her off, before he demanded "Where the fuckin' hell _is_ he?!"

Eyebrow twitching, the blue-haired feline suppressed a growl, the stout man _seriously_ starting to get on his nerves, whilst a small, lucid part of his mind deftly assessed the actual situation.

Truth to be told, when looking very closely, it was a very curious perspective. While Majima got even angrier by the minute, Fukaku was getting more nervous, the two young men were getting jumpier, Grimmjow was getting even more irked - for some odd reason, because as far as he was concerned, he _shouldn't_ be concerned - and the girl...

Well, the magenta-haired girl didn't seem to be affected _at all_ by the growing sensations of palpable anxiety and ire permeating the air of tension around her.

On the contrary, she appeared to be become even more _detached_ with every passing moment.

"I'm afraid I can't disclose that information," she stated lightly, her features poised "But what I can tell you is that he should not be for much longer. He'll be amongst us soon enough."

"Yeah, like _next_ _era_ , imbecilic slut," scoffed Majima irritably, sneering, which led the blue-haired - hopping mad and, yetagain, unable to register why - to be real fed up with that man.

There were just some people who couldn't - but really _should_ \- shut up.

The former Arrancar was about to take a step forward, but one glance from her, and he stilled.

It wasn't that her look had been threatening or menacing or the like. It just...didn't need to be.

"I told you not to interfere, Pantera."

Her silent stare, though brief and blank, harboured more power than did her simple sentence.

Appalled by his colleague's conduct, Fukaku turned hastily towards the girl with a profoundly rueful look, reverence in his tone as he bowed low to her: "Do excuse him. _(Clears throat)_ Without further ado - and drag on this needless drivel longer - shall we begin, Gamine-chan?"

Puzzled, the feline had to frown at the way the man had addressed her. He did not remember it exactly, but he was sure that it didn't sound anything like what had Leona called her earlier.

Again, as large magenta eyes darted to lock with his, the girl's silence spoke a lot, and this time it sounded a lot like ' _Don't. My name is_ _ **not**_ _territory you'd ever want to venture in_ '.

After standing there waiting with a small smile, the lanky man called out to her tentatively upon seeing her attention averted: "Gamine-chan?"

Her magenta eyes leisurely shifted over to Fukaku, before mendacious pleasantness smoothly returned to her features: "Let's."

Smiling keenly as he nodded, the tall, lanky man hurriedly instructed the two young men to get a move on and head for the van's boot, which they hastily complied with.

After opening the back truck and hollering out brisk commands like 'move' and 'hurry it up', the two then reappeared, brutally dragging along someone with them with no struggle, before tossing them at the magenta-haired girl's feet.

As she eventually knelt down after a short beat of silence, the blue-haired male mutely studied the new addition to their group, the person with their head hung low at the level of their chest.

Figure fully limp, the latter was mostly skin and bones, dirty and bruised under scant, tattered rags, a whiff of decay stemming from their body. With long, messy hair covering their face, it was impossible to tell this individual's gender, although it looked somewhat like a young boy.

Features impassive again, the magenta-haired girl extended her hand towards the motionless figure, gingerly feeling for the other's chin and, upon finding it, gently lifting their head up...

Nothing readied Grimmjow for what he was now a witness to, a sickening feel invading him.

It... It was... There were no words for how horrifying it was.

Tough reluctant to find out, he had to wonder who had the ability to reduce a person - a _child_ \- to... _this_.

Shock overtook that nagging and uninvited feeling of anger, the latter fully disappearing - along with the little inquiries it came with - as though it had never been there in the first place.

His horror must have been tangible or the like, because not seconds after the feline went rigid, the girl stood up and reached out to him - pretending to retrieve something from his jacket - before she gave him a stern, no-nonsense look, whispering quietly: "Not a word, Pantera."

Struck speechless, Grimmjow couldn't have pronounced a single syllable even if he _wished_ it.

He didn't need to be a human to figure out what he was seeing. Point in fact, due to not being human, probably made it easier for him to grasp what he was looking at right now.

With a gaunt, ashen, blank face, it was the boy's eyes that were the core reason for his horror.

They had _no_ life in them. They were hollow.

The boy's _entire_ being was just as hollow. He was almost like a Hollow.

Scratch that. He was _less_ than a Hollow. He was totally and utterly _empty_. Even Ulquiorra, embodiment of nothingness and oblivion, paled in comparison.

Alive but dead, with an expression vacant and lax, eyes two pools of bottomless darkness... Raging, crashing, never-ending swirls leading beyond whatever void was within a black hole.

It was unsettling. Daunting. _Haunting_. A potential source of nightmares.

And the blue-haired could not look away, no matter how desperately he wanted and tried to. Worse, he had to wonder why his mind would think the most unlikely of things at a time like this. But, here he was.

This, had to be something Ichigo should never see. The kid would _**NEVER**_ accept this...Ever.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Ichigo's face was burning red, so red, it stood out even more than the teen's vivid orange hair. So that was pretty much saying something.

By now, he and Byakuya were somewhat kneeling awkwardly on the floor, their legs utterly incapable of keeping them standing up further, not with the burden of their unaccommodating emotions gradually weighing down on them with every action taken, every movement made.

It was dreadfully gruelling, much worse in levels of humiliation than what they had endured back in Las Noches **(6)**.

And the main reason for that was, although they had been observed by Aizen back then, he hadn't been _physically_ _**there**_ where and when their sexual interactions had taken place. So Grimmjow had used that to their advantage and made them overlook the immortal's presence.

Currently, it was _impossible_ to do the same, not only because Jugo was _in_ the room - raptly watching their every single move - but he would also interfere, enunciating a few directives here and there when the pair were in the wrong.

They didn't even get them block him out, as he let his whip crack out warningly against the floor - very menacingly near to their bare skin - when they both tried to not heed to his voice.

Upon the Twilight's orders, the pair reticently, reluctantly explored one another, delving into each other's bodies with clumsy, chary caresses, fingers slowly tracing skin.

Avoiding each other's gazes in embarrassment and edginess, the two started their unnerving journey with tensed, heedful movements - handling each other as if they were made of glass, as though one simple indelicate move, would cause them to shatter and break.

However, as if having a mutual, mute understanding, neither allowed their hands to travel any lower than each other's hips, nor did they venture beyond each other's necks, leaving their lower parts and faces safe, untouched - all apart from their foreheads being unconsciously leant in together at some point.

Eventually getting a little bolder, the teen's touches were cautious, gentle and gradual, coming to an immediate halt whenever the noble would silently express his discomfort - through deep frowning or with his jaw clenching even harder still.

Knowing that, under normal circumstances, he would never be _this_ close to the Kuchiki, the Shinigami Substitute couldn't help but be slightly curious as he carefully went about the dark-haired's lean, yet fairly well-built physique, wondering where was hid all his battle prowess.

The Kuchiki's hands, however, were a tad firmer, more rigid, in their approach, but courteous enough to avoid delving in too much - a soft hitch in the other's breathing an indicator to that.

Pale, slender fingers gradually ran over the soft cream skin of the other's youthful and trim figure, cautiously following the firm lines of young male's muscles and curves, secretly in awe as to the latter, despite his age, being far more well-off and sturdy in build than he was.

The 6th Division's captain curtly paused for a second when his hand brushed over the teen's pectoral area, feeling how rapidly the latter's rushed heartbeat was racing, but the noble didn't dwell on it long and swiftly moved on.

With the young male's features flushing even darker with horrified mortification, the Kuchiki respectfully opted not to embarrass the other further. It was the least he could do with all the consideration the teenager showed towards him.

They were so close - their breaths intermingled - that Ichigo could see how long and thick the other's eyelashes were - a feat that no amount of that shadowy grey makeup could change - as well as being dark enough to clash clearly against snow-white, flawless skin.

There was absolutely no point in denying it, Byakuya was truly beautiful.

And the noble noticed, for the very first time since he had known the teenager, the faint, near undistinguishable, freckles along the bridge of the young male's nose - there were also a few speckling his cheeks and a little part of his shoulders.

A redhead through and through... Quite endearing...thinking about it objectively, of course.

But, again, the disconcerting reality of their outrageous situation was so prevalent, steadily adding to their discomfort - unable to escape it or redirect their focus from it - that the two males felt horribly exposed, vulnerable, diminished, unsafe... Could there be _anything_ worse?

"Why don't you have a go at kissing each other?"

It had been a while since Jugo had gone quiet, as he had been mostly centring his attention on scrutinizing the pair with undivided focus - trying to pick on what made them uncomfortable and, after creating a quick mental note on what he would detect, filing it for later use.

So when he spoke, and to demand _that_ of them to top it all, both Ichigo and Byakuya's eyes, darting over to the Twilight, went incredibly wide as a strong sense of disquiet invaded them.

"Go on," pressured the blonde with a contemptuous smirk, causing the other two to glance back at each other, distressed eyes even wider than prior.

It wasn't a suggestion. The Twilight was serious about this.

...Alright. This, was _definitely_ worse.

What's more, Grimmjow had kissed them both, but neither had done each other yet, and were both _highly_ disinclined to do so - not at all at ease with the idea or with the action in itself.

In addition, Ichigo didn't want to make the Kuchiki more uncomfortable than he already was, and Byakuya believed that kissing was simply _not_ to be done at this very moment. Or at any other time similar to this one for that matter.

Back in Las Noches, in all his defence, the noble had acted under duress, reaching out on his own accord to kiss the former Arrancar, in a gesture of desperation and irrationality. Despite having used that under the guise of an excuse to withhold his voice, with a more coherent and lucid mind, the noble would have never done that. And he would never do it again.

As the whip came slamming down with force upon the teenager's skin, drawing a pained yelp from the latter, the 6th Division's captain lowered his gaze and let out a quiet, strained sigh.

...Well, he wouldn't be the one to _initiate_ it at least.

With the young male still reeling from the hit he just received - although the mark had already vanished due to the enhanced healing these bodies had - the Kuchiki swiftly reached out and took a hold of Ichigo's hands, startling the teen, before using them to steadily draw him closer until they were face to face again.

The noble then lifted one of the other's hands, raising it until he made it touch down upon his own face, right by the corner of his mouth before he stilled, staring straight back at the young male as the latter blinked, baffled and confused.

As the teen's gaze leisurely lowered towards the Kuchiki's faintly parted lips, he felt his own mouth run dry, a sudden, unsteady light-headedness weighing upon his being as he appeared to grasp what the dark-haired male was getting to.

Kiss Byakuya Kuchiki? Without mentioning that it seemed like a crime, it just was too surreal to be real. What was next? ...Kissing Aize-? No, no, _no_. Not even going there. That was a _very_ dangerous territory. One he'd rather not venture on, _ever_.

Inwardly getting a grip, the teen tried to focus, brow furrowing in concentration as he moved, slowly inching his face closer, before he halted seconds away from other's lips...in hesitance...

Ichigo's gentle, concerned eyes flitted back up to meet the other's own, silently waiting for the noble to give him _one_ hint that he had gotten the wrong idea.

But the shinigami remained immobile, resigned but composed, not once reacting in negativity.

So, after taking a deep, shuddering breath and bracing himself, Ichigo let his eyes gently fall shut as he readied himself to close the gap between them, head tilting slightly, and-

A sudden, curt knock at the front door, broke the tense, laden silence, making everyone in the room jump out of their skin.

Annoyance then flew across Jugo's features, evidently irritated at being disturbed, before he promptly stood up and marched off to hastily deal with the cause of their interrupted session.

"I'm _busy_ ," hissed out the blonde male venomously as he tersely wrenched the door open, and then engaged with whoever it was that stood in front of him.

With the blonde Twilight giving his back to them, the pair instantly took the opportunity to break apart. The noble swiftly retrieved his hands, which prompted the teenager to scoot away - but not _too_ far, just in case - to give the other the necessary space, before lowering his head, his frame shaking as he held up a hand to cover his face.

...They had almost _kissed_. And the teen didn't know if he should be glad that they _didn't_. Or...

Upon seeing how embarrassed and agitated Ichigo seemed, the Kuchiki, could only feel sorry for the young male - it was impossible and inhumane not to - so he whispered quietly, gently: "Are you alright?"

Hand lowering a little, uncertain and ashamed brown eyes tentatively drifted over to lock with grey ones: "Shouldn't that be my line to you?"

An elegant black eyebrow rose at that: "No, actually. You shouldn't be asking _me_ this at all."

Misled by the other's words and tone, Ichigo winced slightly, before offering a small, strained smile: "You're right. I guess that question was pretty dumb, all things considered, and-"

"You misunderstand me," murmured the dark-haired shinigami with a curt shake of his head, before he let out a soft sigh "I am not the one to be worried about. I _am_ highly and extremely uncomfortable with this, I will not lie. But, for _you_ to endure this..."

"I'm fine," said the teen quickly, way too quickly, before he hurriedly looked away when the noble narrowed his eyes at him sceptically "I'll get over it. ...Eventually. One day. But what's _really_ bugging me, is bothering you. I can tell you'd rather be anywhere but here right now-"

"I'd rather _die_ than be doing this."

Again, the noble's words came out harsher than intended, because it led the other to feel even guiltier than he already did: "I figured. So, I'm sorry. _Very_ sorry."

Bewildered by the heartfelt apology, Byakuya then finally realized that the other was actually feeling really, _really_ bad about this situation, probably even a lot more than he was letting on.

The noble then recalled something very specific the former Arrancar had expressed back then.

' _He's too freakin' young for this, any of this.'_

True, the sixteen-year-old boy had undeniably been through a lot - having his share of battles, of losses, of torment and suffering - which caused him to have a semi-mature point of view, but it _didn't_ make him less younger. He still had a youthful, innocent side to him, because he was _still_ a kid. And the noble was not making things easier for the teenager.

The Kuchiki _did_ show some considerable amount of consideration - more than he'd usually ever allow himself to - near equivalent to the other's, but his reticence was greatly troubling the young male, who was most likely interpreting this behaviour as an aversion towards _him_.

However, contrary to popular belief, though Byakuya may not be fond of the young male, he most certainly did not _abhor_ him. There were times were he would take out his aggravations, of any nature - past and/or present - on the Shinigami Substitute, but in truth that was uncalled for and he was quite aware of it. On a little less sympathetic note, he knew that Ichigo would not hold a grudge against him because he considered him a friend...when Byakuya didn't.

With a heavy sense of regret, the noble felt that he needed to do something to fix the situation.

"K- Young man. It's not _you_. You should not be apolo-"

Glancing over to the 6th Division's captain to see why he had stopped so abruptly, the young male, still quite distraught, saw the dark-haired shinigami glare daggers beyond his shoulder, so the teen too looked over in that direction, turning around.

Jugo was staring silently at them, leaning against the now closed door, with his arms crossed and his head tilted, regarding the pair with a deep, deliberative and pensive look.

Despite his expression not giving anything away, the Twilight had a rather deterring gleam in his chilling stony green eyes, and the young male was rendered only more unnerved by it.

The blonde didn't even seem to realize right away that the pair had shifted their attention onto him, and when he did, he waved them off curtly, inattentively: "Don't stop yet. Carry on."

It took them a few seconds of hesitation, still rather put-off by the new but very different and disquieting aura the Twilight was giving off, before they then did as told, wordlessly reaching out for each other again.

Whilst beginning a tad to get a hang of the physical contact, neither went back in for the kiss. But the blonde, strangely enough, didn't seem to mind, probably having forgotten. Or rather, he suddenly appeared a bit too preoccupied to pay any notice, looking straight at the other two males, but was not really watching them anymore.

After letting them carry on for a brief while, Jugo spoke up again as he leisurely made his way over towards the pair: "That'll be enough for now. We'll get back to all that eventually."

Pulling away with less haste then prior, the two separated a distance and got back up to their feet, rather tense as the Twilight neared them, before then coming to a halt as they all stood in a tight face-to-face triangle.

Features unchanged, the blonde, without a uttering a word, neared the stock-still teenager with measured movements, up until their noses almost touched.

Ice cold, green eyes not once leaving wide, wary brown ones, Jugo then slowly lifted his un-gloved hands, with deadly grace, and let them hover over the young male's body under the guise of a caress, yet not once coming in any contact with the other's skin, despite the lethal proximity of his gestures.

As the Twilight's hands lazily went up and down in the same manner, floating over every inch of the teen, the latter boldly stood his ground, despite _very much_ wanting to pull back and run.

That screeching, harrowing feeling from before was gradually returning, and, although it was very faint - and Ichigo still had absolutely no clue as to what it was - it was _there_ all the same. And he _didn't_ like it. It was...smothering, for lack of a more accurate word to describe it.

Once he had mapped out the Shinigami Substitute's entire body, the blonde male moved to do the same with Byakuya, making the latter just as distressed and displeased, going totally rigid.

Repeating this uncanny whatever-it-was twice for each of them, it became clear to them that Jugo evidently had _no_ regard whatsoever for the concept of personal space. And despite him having his hands to himself so far, it was as if he was all over and upon them.

With the inescapable intake of his sickly sweet-scented breath, that alone was suffocating and stifling enough to feel asphyxiated, like he was stealing all their air.

What's more, except for the faint sounds of breathing in the room, the stilled silence imposed by the blonde was oppressing, neither the teenager nor the noble knowing what to expect next.

"How sweet. And I haven't even _touched_ you yet."

The Twilight then let out a low chuckle, finally taking a step backwards, whereas faint relief flooded through Ichigo and Byakuya both, able to breathe at ease once more, now that their personal space felt like theirs again.

"You do _know_ that Suzuki-sama wants you both to be uke here, right?" informed the blonde suddenly, tone of voice conversational but chilling, before his stony, iced eyes drifted off in the teen's direction, the latter pretty much mortified by this unexpected and daunting turn the conversation had taken.

Humming contemplatively as he considered the teenager with an arched eyebrow, Jugo then uttered in complete seriousness: "Hm... _Maybe_ not you, boy. If you play it right, that is."

In all retrospect, Ichigo sort of got why the Twilight would go and label him straight off the bat as an uke - given his palpable inexperience - and this, would probably be the case for a while. But to hear that the complementary position was also a possibility for him, was not a concept the orange-haired teenager could fathom as of yet.

A brief thought crossed the young male's mind leading him to wonder which one was less of a hassle. A second curt thought came kicking the other away. Not to be reflected upon _now_...

As the conversation stood its ground, the noble was at total loss, not at all following, a feat the blonde was quick to pick up on, smirking as he glanced conceitedly at the frowning Kuchiki.

Taking a step right back into the other's space, Jugo sneered disdainfully, snidely straight into Byakuya's hard, displeased features: "But _you_ , candy boy... You seem to be easy prey-"

Not liking the implications despite not quite being on the same wavelength as the other, the dark-haired opted to glare darkly, his brow furrowing even deeper, but did not utter a word.

Up until now, Jugo had noted the noble reacting negatively towards him - no surprise there, Jugo was _making_ it as such - in addition to being downright averse to his entire situation, loathing it with every fibre of his being. However, the raging, destructive indignation the noble was undergoing was quelled and controlled. And that, was a fact the Twilight would - could - not accept, as it needed to be known what it took to _break_ that impeccable control.

Stony green eyes languidly tracing the dark-haired's features, the blonde male made a show of biting his lip with fake sympathy as he sucked in a sharp breath: "-what with all the... _obvious_ issues you have."

Again, apart from his irate grey, silver eyes narrowing even further, the 6th Division's captain didn't say a thing, deeming it not worth it to give into whatever game Jugo was playing at.

Getting a little irked but not showing it, the blonde male decided to carry on with the flow he began with and give one last push, making use of the advice given by a little red devil.

"With Daddy, I'm guessing-" ventured the Twilight intrusively, before suddenly snapping his fingers, as if figuring it all out, his features sparking up "No, wait. Mommy more likely."

Totally taken aback by the other's vicious audacity, the Kuchiki's eyes widened a fraction, before they narrowed further, his fists clenching tightly till his knuckles became even whiter.

And though it wasn't much, it was enough to let the blonde male to know that he had indeed struck a pretty sensitive nerve.

"Yes, _definitely_ Mommy. Her...not being around - maybe, hm? - left you totally unmindful of affection and warmth. Coupled with whatever other responsibilities, you have to hide behind the excuse of being indifferent. Only you care a lot _more_ than you let on, don't you? Like what would dear Mommy _think_ , should she see you where you are right now? A good thing she can't too," taunted Jugo scathingly, chuckling as he did so, enjoying every nasty effect his words were having on the steadily seething noble.

Byakuya was steadily losing his composure. _Who_ did this...varlet think he was? How _dare_ he presume to speak of his departed mother in such a manner? How _dare_ he speak what he did not know of? ...But was rather spot on about, not that Byakuya would admit that out loud.

But instead of leaving things at that, the blonde Twilight gave one last vilification, one which he hissed out harshly, eyes fuelled with contempt: "She'd be rolling around in her grave right now, _agonized_ at knowing that her beloved, baby boy...will be _reduced_ to a fuckin' whore."

Ichigo just about gasped out aloud, utterly horrified. He _definitely_ didn't like this. Not one bit.

It was like, ever since they had set foot in this room, Jugo was dead set on doing _everything_ to antagonize the Kuchiki. And one glance at the Kuchiki told him that, this time, it had worked.

At the blonde's cruel, cold-blooded words, cutting deeper than any blade, Byakuya. Saw. _Red_.

At first too shocked to react, his features then darkened dangerously to all full-on wrathful ire.

Agreeing to a blinding, pent-up rage to detonate and fully reign over him at an alarming rate, the noble, no longer thinking straight, harshly balled up a fist, poised and ready to punch, as he seethed out venomously, with clear murderous intent: "How _dare_ you, you-"

Right before the 6th Division's captain lashed out, the teen reacted fast, dashing forward and holding tight onto the other's wrist, his expression set and firm, despite the panic in his voice: " _Don't_! He's been provoking you since we got here! Bya-! _(Swears)_ Just... _stop_! Get a grip! This isn't you!"

It took a good moment for Byakuya to register _anything_ but that loud epic sensation of anger consuming him, though a minor more pragmatic part of his mind _was_ alerting him that there _was_ wrongness in giving in to it. But then again, the taste of limitless oblivion straight in the midst of a blind wrath, was simply too exquisite to relinquish. Its presence was justified after all. The blonde male had managed to insult him, his name _and_ his departed mother all in but a couple of sentences and one _very_ ugly, distasteful word. ...Unforgivable.

He didn't want to calm down. But he had to. The young male was right. This _was_ unlike him.

" _And, if I'm not wrong, Suzuki-sama_ _did_ _tell you that there were consequences if you dared to something along those lines, didn't he? Then keep yourself frequently in check, because these consequences are_ _not_ _something you'd_ _ever_ _want to see happen."_

Slowly letting out a long, deep exhale, the noble steadily went lax under Ichigo's grip, forcing himself to calm down, narrowly recalling that it wasn't _his_ safety that was on the line here...

The Shinigami Substitute had always found Byakuya's implacable sense of control amazing. The latter _did_ get angry. And he'd most certainly show it. Calmly, with such deadly calmness that it was frightening beyond reason, much more so than say, Yammy Rialgo's anger.

As such, to witness the 6th Division's captain react like _this_ was not only shocking, but it had _never_ occurred to him that the noble getting livid - to the point of revealing it out in the open - would scare him this much. Ichigo was currently hoping to never have to face this ever again.

Granted, the blonde had thrown out the worst of insults - the teen himself wouldn't have been able to bare his dear, deceased mother to be dragged down in a vile slur and would have most likely reacted _pretty_ badly - but Byakuya looked like he wanted to commit the most brutal and gruesome murder he could ever have carried out. Worse, even though deprived of most of the powers that made him who he was, the noble had seemed more than capable of making use of his bare hands to beat down - or maybe even maim - the blonde male.

But... _then_ what? What would the shinigami captain's actions have led to? What would have been the cost?

Realizing that he had just prevented a rather ghastly occurrence, Ichigo shuddered, shaken...

After making sure that the dark-haired male wouldn't start off again, the teenager pulled his trembling hands away from the other, before throwing a horrid, critical scowl - one that was rendered much more intimidating with that touch of regal golden eye shadow - towards Jugo.

Only, the young male couldn't quite maintain that expression for long, total surprise adding itself to his features as he eyed the smirking blonde Twilight.

Jugo didn't seem fazed in the least. _But_ , there was something oddly triumphant in his smile. Like, what the Kuchiki noble had almost done had been a reaction that he had been expecting - or perhaps wanting to happen - and now that it had, it was an accomplishment or something.

Ichigo's eyes went wide as a thought then occurred to him. Could it be-? Was this in any way upon Aizen's orders? If that was the case...why?

" _Wow_. It really is not _that_ hard, is it?" stated Jugo blatantly, smugly smirking wide, whereas mostly talking to himself, and yet speaking loud and clear enough to be heard.

"Right, as always, that one. Well, she always really _did_ know which nerves to strike. All you need to do is push the right buttons and we can get a _real_ chaos out of you, hmm, candy boy?"

With the Kuchiki concentrating solely on remaining calm thus completely ignoring the other, the teen frowned, rather certain of what he had just heard, but not understanding it in the least.

'She'? Who was ' _she_ '? Definitely not Aizen. ...That witch with two different blue eyes then? Man-something? ...Was it Man _ta_? Was she the one behind this? Again, _why_? What the heck-?

"You," called out Jugo abruptly, nodding his head sharply in the teen's direction "Your tag?"

Becoming stiff under those unnerving stony green eyes - with no feelings of any kind other than those related to malevolence and spite - Ichigo spluttered out his new name, quick to get it over with, yet _truly_ hating the way it sounded: "Sh- Shujinkou."

" _Shujinkou_?" repeated the blonde ever so slowly, an air of total disbelief to his features before he cracked up, his chilling laughter scathing "Holy hell, that's _terrible_."

"Don't remind me," muttered the young male bitterly under his breath, hunching his shoulders upwards and wishing he could find a hole right now, whilst Byakuya glared hatefully at Jugo - who had _yet_ to stop laughing.

"Oh dear me, I can't breathe," gasped the blonde, deftly wiping away at the corner of his eyes, before he scoffed, waving his hand with theatrical elegance " _No way_ could I possibly call you _that_. Something else will have to do. But let's try to keep to the theme of your tag, shall we?"

As a contemplative air flitted across the Twilight's features, the teenager, curious, watched on as Jugo tried to come up with yet another way to address him. The blonde's features then lit up with a beam and he clapped his hands together once, eyes shining with nasty derision as he bit his lip to keep from laughing again: "How about...little hero, hm? Oh, I know. _Hero-chii_."

"On second thought, my tag's fine," muttered the young male with a deep scowl, one which did absolutely nothing to deter the Twilight's amusement.

Oh, _screw_ him. That blonde son of a gun was having way too much fun at getting them riled...

Still chuckling, Jugo then diverted his attention towards the dark-haired male: "And you?"

Byakuya, however, refused to utter a single word, needing imperatively to remain in control, but, after a minute, he did glance over to the teen with a nod, hence Ichigo spoke up instead: "It's Zakura."

" _That_ I like," stated the blonde mockingly, staring directly at the 6th Division's captain but speaking about him as if he wasn't there "But I still prefer 'whore'. It suits him _way_ better."

Although the teenager flinched, this time, the noble forcibly kept his calm, merely darkening his glare, leading Jugo to purse his lips, an eyebrow arched.

Well, the blonde Twilight certainly couldn't have that, not now that he knew that provocation eventually had its toll on the dark-haired male.

Deciding that their brief break was over and that they now needed to move on, the Twilight, smirking with sinister promise, focusing back on the young male: "Well then, Hero-chii. Why don't you bring me that first box over there?"

Dismayed due to the fact that this newer appellation was apparently going to stick, Ichigo scowled but did as he was told, marching over to where he had been designated to go where he picked up the box - both hands, barely registering how heavy it was - before charging right back and thrusting it out towards the blonde male.

Chuckling lightly, Jugo reached for the box, but instead of taking it, he opened it and took all his time to rummage through it, purposely aggravating the teenager further: "Hm, let's see."

The box was tilted at angle where Byakuya couldn't see what was inside from where he stood, but one look at the teen's rapidly paling face, was enough for the noble to not want to know.

Humming pensively to himself, the Twilight picked his way through the objects inside, before his features maliciously lit up with wicked intent, seemingly finding what he was searching for: "Ah. These will do. Here."

Taking the box right out from the young male's hands, the blonde male handed out instead to the teen what he had withdrawn from it, forcefully placing them in Ichigo's unwilling hold.

Two sets of cuffs.

Anger dimming, dread weaved itself back into the dark-haired's being, understanding now the teen's reaction, although he had an inkling that these were the least of worrying items in there.

"Zakura~" called out the blonde male with syrupy sweetness, earning disgruntled grey eyes upon him, which beheld the scorn and disdain to Jugo's features "Go lie down on the bed."

Jaw clenching tight with ire and a drastic rise of alarm, the Kuchiki threw a withering glare, yet eventually went off as told.

Upon reaching the bed, he paused in his step, rather unsure in which position to lie down. The Twilight hadn't been specific, but it didn't make things simpler for him. After a few seconds, the dark-haired male then opted to lie normally, on his back, modesty by long forsaken. And if this was not the position the blonde male wanted, the latter need but say so.

As the young male was too stressed out to focus on anything other than the menacing cuffs in his hands, the latter was startled out of his mind when the Twilight crept up from behind him - and bringing along with him that feeling once again - before whispering directly in his ear: "Now, Hero-chii, go ahead and cuff him up."

Appalled, Ichigo turned around and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything at all, Jugo cut him off, eyes narrowed ominously as a snide sneer touched his lips: " _Don't_ tell me you can't, little hero."

Deflated, the anxious teen cast wide eyes in the stiffened noble's direction, the latter's tense grey eyes already upon him. Neither even knew what would happen if they _didn't_ do what was asked of them. Nor could they begin to imagine what _would_ happen if they conformed.

Inhaling sharply, the teen braced himself, walking up to the bed with stiff steps, trying to look everywhere but at the 6th Division's captain, and just as he was about to reach for the other's already outstretched hands - Byakuya aiming to facilitate things - the Twilight spoke up again.

"Hands behind his back, Hero-chii. Nice and tight."

Again, the young male's movements faltered, unable to convince himself to do this, despite the command in itself, as well as the Kuchiki noble allowing him to do as the blonde ordered - not out of blind obedience, but rather in an attempt to accommodate the teenager as much as he possibly could.

"Just do it," whispered Byakuya inaudibly, firm and loud enough for only Ichigo to hear him, before the dark-haired male readjusted himself, shifting over into a position on his side, so his hands were now held out behind his back.

Biting his lip hard, the Shinigami Substitute carefully kneeled halfway upon the bed, trying to get a better leverage to carry out his task, before his own skin brushed against the noble's, the contact and proximity electrifying, more so with how daunting this situation was becoming.

Ichigo, mortified, had practically forgotten about that they were in the nude, the near incident from prior hectic enough for this fact to fly totally out his mind. Hence, his unsteady hands coming in contact with the other man's skin was a shattering reminder of just how vulnerable and all out in the open this situation was coercing them to be.

A wave of sensations abruptly filled him, leading him to startle badly before he then stiffened.

It almost like the one that had been bothering earlier, and yet, very much different. Instead of it filling him with icky, hateful agony, it was drowning him in sheer desperation and dismay, his heart hammering loud, a sweat cascading down his brow...like _he_ was the one about to be shackled and shamed.

Snapping out of it and acting hastily as to not dwell further on it, the teenager, with trembling hands - which gingerly avoided touching the other's pale skin again - enclosed the dark-haired male's wrists reluctantly within the cold cuffs, before a soft clicking sound was heard.

Steeling himself to endure whatever was to come, the noble couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread, a familiar feeling of powerlessness creeping back throughout his being, when, all of a sudden, he backtracked and realized that he had heard only _one_ of the cuffs being shut.

Wide, flabbergasted grey eyes flickered over to stare at Ichigo, who merely blinked once and then quickly averted his eyes, watching warily as the blonde male began to approach the bed.

There was no doubt that what the young male just did was intentional. Risky, but intentional. Despite failing to grasp the teen's reason for doing so, the noble could only be rather grateful and he hurriedly started to work a way to make use of this small and very welcome advantage.

Letting himself fall seated on the mattress with poise, Jugo smoothly reached out and took a hold of the teen's tense arm, before forcefully dragging the latter towards him and having him too lie down upon the bed, facing Byakuya but with enough room for them to not be too near.

"Now, give your hands up here, Hero-chii."

With concerned grey eyes upon him, Ichigo nervously did as he was told, and by doing so, he found himself with his hands bound above his head, cuffs hooked up and around a bedpost.

Leaning back for a moment to conceitedly admire his work, a sinisterly foreboding smirk to his lips, the blonde male then settled himself between the two, propped up on his shoulders as he lazily addressed the pair, regarding them each in turn through long, blonde eyelashes: "So, dearies, as it is your very first time here in _Débauche_ , I'll be nice - just a little - and offer you boys a little something."

Due to the Twilight taking _all_ his time to articulate, it served only to unnerve the anticipating pair, the suspense killing them, wishing this to be done and over with, and yet, not all wanting do whatever was to follow to begin with.

"Tonight - and tonight only - you have a choice as to what you'll learn initially," drawled out Jugo leisurely, his wide smile distressingly sadistic "So, what will it be? ...Anal? ...Or oral?"

A rush of emotions that were all from the negative zone came crashing down on Ichigo and Byakuya, features paled, their eyes all wide with unreserved horror, their breathing turned strained, as that one forbidding moment they had dreaded for a while, was now finally here.

"Choose wisely," warned Jugo, unrestrainedly revelling in the pair's terrorized expressions all while playing idly with long locks of his hair "You won't be getting another chance like this."

Painfully aware by now what male on male sex entailed on an overall overview, Byakuya was able to deduce what those two choices stood for. But, in all logic and honesty, he preferred to let Ichigo choose - as the latter was by far less at sea than he was - and, hopefully, could make a better choice than he would. Which was exactly what the silent and highly nervous teenager was trying to do.

Reasonably, the quicker they got this over with, the better. But there was the _after_ to consider.

Being thrown into the water with minimal understanding of the field surrounding them was imprudent, and as much as neither wanted to be in this position, they couldn't flee from any of this. Nevertheless, where was the harm in stalling, even if it was just by a little?

Swallowing thickly, Ichigo, eyes lowered, let out a shuddering breath, before he said stiffly, his mouth running dry: "Oral."

Features impassive, the blonde male merely raised an eyebrow: "...Is that your final answer?"

Despite his heightened horror, the apprehensive teen stood firm with his decision: "Y- Yes."

Stubborn as he was, the young male was decided. He thought it best be aware than oblivious, as the latter factor had always played negatively in his past experience. Hence, he'd rather be confronted by the harsh reality than be buried deep down under an unclear ambiguity...

For a moment, Jugo was without reaction, expression utterly blank as he regarded the orange-haired teen, but he then cracked an appreciative grin as he gently worked his way off the bed: "Smart boy. Delaying the inevitable, if only by a little."

Ichigo startled. His approach had been seen through.

Once off the mattress, the blonde male headed over to the previously discarded smallest of the boxes - from where it had been left on the floor - and went through it again, before retrieving what it was he needed.

The Twilight then smoothly, tranquilly made his way back, moving to stand behind the young male, when the latter and the Kuchiki managed to catch a brief glimpse of the blonde's weapon of choice - a large, thick blue dildo, all length and girth. And at that, the two of them were both quick to give into distressed trepidation.

Besides it having been his first time, Ichigo had been _in pain_ when Grimmjow had penetrated him, despite him being as gentle as possible. No way in holy hell was _that_...thing, going to fit.

"But you _just_ said-!" began the teenager vividly, feeling terribly cheated, before he abruptly cut himself off as he felt something rubbery - that _thing_ no doubt - leisurely, teasingly brush lightly against one of his ass cheeks, causing him to pale and shiver.

"Oh, you'll be doing oral first alright," affirmed Jugo with a condescending tone, chuckling viciously as he sat down - on his knees, right at the teen's back - before he lithely leaned over the young male, locking stony eyes with the latter's agitated ones "For that, I'll need you as involved as possible. And seeing that _neither_ of you are hard at the moment... Well."

The Twilight then made a point to direct his stare straight at Ichigo's limp length, drawing a dark, mortified blush from the horrified young male who was quick to raise and close his legs - knees up to chest - hastily looking away and resisting the urge to bury his face in the sheets.

Entertained by the orange-haired's endearing reaction, the blonde male then shifted the dildo upwards, so it would stand out in the other two's line of sight, and took a tube of lube - which he had also taken from the box - before setting the cap between his pearly snow teeth, prying the tube open with a curt, firm tug.

With that done, he poured a charitable amount onto the tip of the dildo and then, after setting the lube down beside him, smeared the glop over the rubber item, working agonizingly slow.

Focusing on his task at hand, the blonde didn't glance in the pair's direction, but their distress was palpable, given their tensed silence and the way they fidgeted edgily - catching this from out of the corner of his eye - leading him to chuckle scathingly, morbidly and cruelly amused.

Deeming the dildo slippery enough, Jugo shifted his focus on the two other males, smirking wide upon seeing that the bound males had their eyes downwards, staring hard and pointedly at the sheets, bodies entirely stiffened, along with a faint flush to their panic-stricken features.

While Ichigo was quite fearful, Byakuya was downright terrified. Only, he didn't let himself show _all_ of what he felt. ...He just couldn't. It would only be used against him if he did that.

Unwanted recollections of his time in Las Noches came to him without his consent, recalling hollow blue eyes burning through him as he had been brutally defiled, bruised and battered, penetrated by force, his being gripping onto but a small part of his mind that aided him remain silent during the whole ordeal, whilst everything else was overwhelmed by pain and pleasure. But really pain mostly. He barely recalled anything else but blinding, shattering pain. Pleasure at that time had been nothing but a simple side dish.

Heart hammering in his chest as his grey eyes fell tightly shut, he felt a series of shivers run through him, as a soft, shaky breath escaped past his lips, which he hoped no one heard.

He was no fool. The Kuchiki understood perfectly well that the former Arrancar had been a victim like him. But that experience had been by far one of the worst he had been through, without counting every time Aizen was all over him. That, however, was beyond comparison.

"Touches, kisses, masturbation, sex toys..." drawled out the blonde Twilight all of a sudden, startling both the noble and the teen, eyes warily darting at full attention as the other spoke "Foreplay is essential to those who enjoy it. And any lack of reaction, can be slightly vexing."

Rearranging himself, Jugo shuffled to lie down behide the young male, his lean figure pressed compactly against the other's body - his cold, stony green eyes locking provocatively onto the Kuchiki's wide, apprehensive ones - as his lips went to the teenager's ear, before the blonde male quietly, huskily whispered into it: "Ready for it, Hero-chii?"

"No wait, _don't_ -!"

Eyes going incredibly wide, Ichigo quickly clamped his mouth shut as a strangled sound rose from his throat, just as Jugo firmly began pushing the dildo slowly in - after setting it in place and angling it at an adequate slant - past the very first rings of muscles to the tensed entrance.

"Relax," hushed the blonde softly in an unfeeling tone, whilst wearing a malicious expression, sadistically excited and enjoying what he was inflicting, as well as the feel of absolute power that came along with it.

Alarmed as the other tried to enter the alien object deeper, the Shinigami Substitute writhed, whilst stiffening up entirely, which accidently added _more_ pain to the already piercing, cold invasion, squelchy with lubricant.

Ichigo vaguely heard the other tell him again to relax...Who the freaking hell was he kidding?

Shaking his head, the stricken teen couldn't bring himself to, way too stressed out to do so. Ichigo was rather aware that tensing up would only bring him pain, only _nothing_ about this was making him comfortable. Regardless of that odd, unnameable sensation messing up with his senses, the teen actually felt quite ill, as he had to helplessly undergo the dildo prod press intrusively into him, straining against his tight and taut inner walls. ...These were walls made for expelling, not breaking and entering. At least, not the way it was currently being done.

Upon noticing Ichigo shaking horribly as the latter tried to keep quiet, the deft, slender fingers of the blonde's free hand crawled up, like a spider, to the teen's mouth, before prying it wide open - after forcing their way past the latter's lips. Thus, the young male couldn't muffle the sounds he was making any longer, desperate noises with a mixture of discomfort and distress.

Having underwent physical intimacy with Grimmjow first had been an unnerving experience, granted, but it had turned out to be one of trust and tenderness. And what had happened earlier with Byakuya had assuredly been intimidating, but at least the noble was a familiar face, and it was evident - though they weren't at all 'cosy' with each other - that they could, maybe in time, find some sort of solace in one another.

But here, right now, there was no warmth, no familiarity, no comfort. It was all frightening and unknown, frigid, unfeeling and heartless.

Worse, that very first oppressing, toxic, feeling from before? It was now tenfold in sensation, so crushing, coupled with the teen's growing apprehension, that he literally felt compressed by its imposing weight.

It was hard to breathe, impossible to think, and even his vision was starting to blur and fade. Ichigo couldn't tell which of his own anxiety or this disconcerting, eerie, uninvited feeling was worse.

The young male just... He wanted it to stop. And this, was although anything had yet to _begin_.

"Ease up, boy," repeated the blonde male yet again, brow furrowing with faint frustration as he found too much resistance to go more than a quarter of the way in "Gosh, you're _so_ tense."

Yet again, the teenager resisted, resulting in Jugo's impatience, which prompted the latter in retrieving his free hand - drawing his fingers right out from the teen's mouth with a wet sound and a trail of saliva - and using it to harshly tug at unruly orange locks - earning a sharp yelp - before the blonde hissed meaningfully: "Lube can only help so much, boy. If you don't loosen up, I'll still get it in, but I'll hurt you _so_ bad, Hero-chii. Rip you apart. Is _that_ what you want?"

That overwhelming, poisonous feeling lessened a notch, slightly relieving the young male, and he went a little lax, heaving breathlessly, which caused the Twilight to smirk conceitedly, believing that it was his threat had had its effect.

Making use of the coating of lube, the blonde gradually worked the dildo into the Shinigami Substitute - steadily slipping it in a little, with far more ease than earlier, before pulling it back out, and then pressing it in a tad further, prior to repeating the process all over again - edging deeper every time, causing the mortified teenager's gasping to be louder with every inch.

By the time the blonde was in finally up until the hilt, Ichigo was a panting, shuddering mess. With a heavy sweat to his brow and his bound hands clutched tight, the teen had his eyes shut closed, gritting his teeth, but he ended up breathing out too hard, too loud as he tried to do so.

"Shush," whispered the Twilight with fraudulent gentleness, before he then gave the deeply embedded dildo a slight but sharp twist, causing Ichigo to jolt forwards, back arching, totally helpless to hold in the choked yell that flew out from him, whilst Byakuya lied utterly aghast.

"Oh my, what a _lovely_ reaction! That was absolutely delightful," laughed out Jugo elatedly, watching raptly, sadistically as the other's features twisted with agony, before the blonde male leaned in and languidly ran his tongue up Ichigo's cheek "I _really_ love that you're so callow. Makes me want to corrupt you more."

Despite not being pinned down by the bedpost like the teenager, the noble felt totally helpless, too far gone beyond the verge of personal panic for his brain to fully function, and whatever idea he came up with to aid alleviate the other's predicament was followed by a contradiction.

Should Byakuya speak against this? The blonde may not even heed to what he would say.

Should he offer to take the teen's place? Again, nothing guaranteed that Jugo would consent. Besides, he truly didn't believe he'd cope any better. And, even if he went first, Ichigo would only be next.

Given that he was only halfway bound, should he intervene and fight the Twilight off? Who said that wasn't what the blonde was waiting for? Jugo _had_ been throwing him provocative stares and smirks every now and then as he cruelly harassed the poor Shinigami Substitute.

And _even_ if a 'brawl' should ensue and the noble had the upper hand, _then_ what? Would they run? Where to? How far? Could they even flee to begin with? ...What of the former Arrancar?

"Za-ku-ra," called out Jugo, abruptly breaking Byakuya's train of thought and leading him to glare at the blonde as the latter beckoned him over by a crook of his finger "Come over."

Reluctance aside, it took quite some difficulty for the noble to make his way over with only his knees, almost falling over at least twice. With his teeth clenched hard, he finally reached the other two, as the Twilight had yet to move from his position, still snugly lied against the dead silent and stiff teen, the sheathed dildo still in subtle motion, ruthlessly seeking reaction.

Keeping the slow, deliberate thrusting in play as Ichigo compelled himself not to respond, the Twilight theatrically produced, from his person, yet another object - same in shape and size as the one buried within the teenager, but pink in colour **(7)** \- using his free hand to hold it out to the dark-haired male, before smirking: "Here."

The 6th Division's captain merely stared, unblinkingly, a frown to his tense and profoundly confused features. Byakuya had his hands cuffed - well, allegedly. He tensed a little further. Had Jugo realized it? ...Didn't seem like it. So, what _did_ the other expect him to do exactly?

Upon seeing the puzzled male dither, Jugo rolled his eyes and let out a jaded sigh, before he began to give out instructions to the clueless noble: "Stick out your tongue and lick."

Utterly appalled, Byakuya's dismayed eyes went wide, his lips parting to vividly protest, but the blonde Twilight didn't let him, firmly, forcefully reinstating his previous command: " _Lick_ it. Right there, at the very tip. Go on."

With Jugo briskly gesturing via his chin where the shinigami captain was to begin, the dark-haired male briefly closed his incensed eyes, in an attempt to collect himself.

The noble couldn't afford to act now and make use of his unbound hands. He needed to bide his time to take the other by surprise. However, he really, _really_ had no desire whatsoever to carry _this_ out. ...But how fair would it be for the young male to suffer this nightmare alone?

"You'd better not have the intention of making any patrons _wait_ when they want you to give them a blowjob," remarked the blonde male curtly, clicking his tongue with slight impatience, wearing a smile of extreme malice, all while eyeing the hesitant noble like an aberrant vulture waiting for weakness "Dally too long and they'll start themselves."

Opening his livid eyes again, the Kuchiki slowly, resentfully neared the item proffered to him.

It had been a moment now since the oppressed teenager had closed his eyes, attempting to use the void of darkness to blacken out the sensations the blonde male was dead set on drawing from him, the dildo's thrusting motions not once skipping a beat.

Hence, the teen wasn't really following what was happening between the other two, but when he heard stifled coughing, he was quick to perk up and listen, instantly worried for Byakuya.

"Oh, get over it," snapped Jugo's voice tersely, insensitive impatience lacing it "You didn't even _start_ yet. The real thing sometimes can taste just as bad, if not worse. So _deal_ with it."

The teen was baffled, not really able to discern what was going on, but he was far too rattled - and way too focused on his own ordeal, forcing himself to muffle the few moans and gasps that threatened to spill out at any moment - to take a peek, also distressed by what he may see.

But, of course, the blonde Twilight had other plans.

"Hero-chii. Follow closely. You asked for oral, right? So, _look_. I will not repeat this again."

Not having a choice, Ichigo hesitantly opened his eyes halfway and warily glanced over to look. And then wished to the seven heavens and hells that he hadn't.

Byakuya was bent over, head lowered, deeply mortified eyes down and averted to the side, as he shakily worked his tongue as he had been ordered to, tentatively licking and lapping at the pink dildo with intense disgust and indignation, the horrid taste of plastic making him feel ill.

What made the vilifying picture before him even worse was the expression of complete shame etched within the Kuchiki noble's red features. _Now_ , he really looked like he'd rather be dead.

The Shinigami Substitute shuddered, horrified and rueful for having witnessed Byakuya this way, before hurriedly looking away, not caring right now if he was missing on the tutorial. It was just too awful to bear, made even worse as _he_ had been the one to pick this situation, and yet it was the noble who was enduring it, suffering it. _Again_.

With that thing inside him having started to take effect for a while now, making the teenager feel embarrassedly hot, Ichigo now actually managed to somewhat keep himself in check, the sight and knowledge of the noble's utter degradation killing every jolt of arousal that hit him.

"Now, Zakura, run your tongue upwards along the side. Slowly. Don't rush. Move your way back down. Again. Alternate between your tongue and your lips. Make it nice and wet. That's it," praised Jugo, smirking scathingly as the noble did as he was told, before a degrading beat passed, and then he derided nastily, chuckling "A real good whore you'll make, candy boy~."

The part of the noble's mind that had managed, with great difficulty, to convince him to feign compliance, was entirely drowned by that one simple word, _terribly_ affecting his bruised ego.

"I'M _NOT_ -!"

Blaring crimson with stifled rage, Byakuya cut himself off angrily, utterly unable to continue.

There were so many ways to name what the immortal was progressively making out of them, but none were able to cross his lips, the sound of them so ugly, so wretched. And yet, so true.

"Conflicting, isn't it?" taunted the blonde with a tut, before he finally moved away from the teen, now that the Twilight's focus had shifted - leaving the dildo within Ichigo, but putting it all on hiatus for now, distractedly giving the young male a breather he desperately needed - before the Twilight's voice took a darker, harsher tone "We're _all_ whores in life, Zakura. We just don't sell the same part of ourselves, which all depends on the situation, on the person."

Jugo then grabbed the noble's chin to drag him close, plunging his gaze into those grey eyes and licking his lips with sadistic malice: "You're _truly_ beautiful in your despair, candy boy."

Unable to break free from the other's vice-like grip with his limited movements, the shinigami captain stressed out slowly, tone seething: " _Unhand me_."

"Should I really? And put my hands where exactly?" inquired the Twilight lightly, placing his lips upon the noble's jawline and steadily tracing upwards until he reached the other's ear, prior to whispering in it sinisterly "On your beloved little sister - what _was_ her name again? Oh, yes - Rukia-chan, perhaps? Should I ask Suzuki-sama to go and bring her for us? Would you like that, _Nii-san_?"

Boiling blood brutally drained from Byakuya's face at an alarming rate, rendering him as pale as a sheet, whereas he felt as though his heart had plummeted down low to the very pit of his stomach, and shattered.

Just how much did the blonde know? What did the child of chaos tell him about them exactly?

' _Not everything if he didn't know of Kurosaki Ichigo's age,'_ the Kuchiki noble tried to reason logically, before then taking note of the Twilight's sleek, cunning art in acting _'Unless he was feigning not to know.'_

Glaring harshly at the Twilight, the dark-haired male seethed out indignantly, his voice cold: "...You're as dire as he is."

And it didn't take a genius to know exactly _who_ the 6th Division's captain was talking about.

"Why _thank_ you. Being compared to Suzuki-sama, I'll take that as a compliment, of course. However, as you must have surely noticed, I don't have the same ethics he does. I don't have _any_. I'm. Just. So. _Much_. _**Worse**_ ," asserted the blonde vindictively, before he then viciously dug his nails into the shinigami captain's skin and forcefully began to drag the latter's face down, with a firm intent to have it lowered.

Clenching his teeth tighter, both in anger and in pain, the Kuchiki rebelliously tried to yank himself free, but it only served to heighten the other's impatience, leading the latter to lash out without hesitance.

Brown eyes going wide, Ichigo cringed and subdued a gasp as he witnessed Byakuya's head snap to the side upon impact. The blonde had hit hard, and the 6th Division's captain was left stunned, the sting of the strike burning his skin and the sound of it still ringing in his ears.

What made it worse was that the reprimanding hit was under the guise of a backhanded slap, only serving to humiliate the dark-haired shinigami further.

No one - apart from Koga who had did it out of sheer spite - had ever raised their hand upon him in _that_ manner, not even his grandfather or father. Hell, not even Aizen had hit him. Yet...

Upon seeing the utterly thunderstruck expression harboured by the noble, Jugo snorted loftily, arching an eyebrow up high: "What's the matter? Never been hit before, candy boy?"

Byakuya glared over resentfully, hatefully at Jugo, but, yet again, didn't speak a single word.

"Nothing to say? Doesn't matter. I don't need your words. Or your voice. Not with where your pretty mouth will be going," sneered Jugo spitefully as he took hold of Byakuya's hair in a vicious grip and shoved the latter's head lower, before promptly propping up the pink dildo vertically upon his crotch - under the guise of it being an erect penis - leading to the disgraced Kuchiki noble's upmost outrage, no longer able to think straight, a queasy, unwelcome feeling digging viciously at him.

Aizen Sosuke, his father, that Hinamori demon, the blue-haired former Arrancar, this vile and arrogant heathen blonde, touching and treating _him_ like a- Like he was a-

 _No_. He was a _**Kuchiki**_. And he would _not_ be treated like _this_.

At the very end of his rope and refusing to be belittled any further, Byakuya, once again, let his emotions get the better of himself. The dark-haired male just...had more than enough.

Glaring with indefinable anger, the 6th Division's captain curled his lips over gritted teeth, throwing his most insolent air up at the other, before curtly spitting straight in the other's face.

To say that this was the _last_ thing Ichigo had expected to see Byakuya do, would be a total lie. And now, with that initial shock settling, he was _extremely_ concerned for the other, not at all at ease with Jugo's current expression.

Staggered at first, the Twilight male then slowly raised a hand, fingers wiping away at the spit and briskly flicking it away, before - right after a tense beat of stagnant silence - he lethally grinned wide, quite disturbingly relishing in the Kuchiki noble's attempt at aggravating him.

Well. It worked like a charm, even if it wasn't Byakuya's intent - the latter simply acting on thoughtless ire. And, unlike the other, the blonde Twilight had _no problem_ displaying his ire...

Filled with a sudden surge of sadistic, violent intent, Jugo's stony eyes narrowed dangerously: "Want to _play_ , huh, candy boy?"

Those words were the only warning he gave.

The blonde sharply slammed his fist straight across the other's jaw, letting out a sickening crack in the air, with the dark-haired male falling right off the bed and straight to the ground.

As Jugo came charging to add more to his onslaught, Byakuya, with the taste of blood in his mouth, just snapped further, deciding there and then to hell with it, despite the dizzy soreness. He was _not_ going down without a fight.

Acting quickly, the Kuchiki swung out a leg, smoothly tripping the blonde male, causing the latter to lose his balance, before joining the noble on the floor in a graceless heap, groaning.

Aghast that he lost control of the situation so easily, the Twilight wasted no time to get back up in a crouch, stray blonde strands falling over his vindictive eyes as he viciously lunged for the Kuchiki yet again, with the intent to strike hard, both hands like claws at the ready.

What Jugo never expected was to be met midway by Byakuya's agile hands, both freed - cuffs hanging uselessly and fastened to only one of his wrists - and sturdily blocking the blonde male's attacks, causing the latter's jaw to drop in bafflement.

The 6th Division's captain might be more comfortable with a blade in combat, but he could defend himself just as well without it - naturally, as long as he was unrestricted to do so. His hands were not just skilled in art, nor were his feet just apt at shunpo.

Taking advantage of the other's shock, the noble quickly kicked out, right in the blonde's gut, causing the latter to double over, his breath clogging.

Able to withdraw a hand, Byakuya instantly followed that up with an ugly left hook, catching the other across his cheek and sending him reeling backwards. Not losing anytime, he shoved the Twilight back to the floor, pinning him down with a knee to his chest. But just as he got ready to start a series of fuming punches, the blonde smirked wide, wickedly amused, before sneaking a hand out and giving a sharp, cruel tug at the noble's black locks.

Head arching back painfully, the dark-haired male was unable to do much to prevent the other from yanking hard and throwing him off to the side, putting some space between them as they panted heavily, before they charged at each other again, like staunchly hate-filled, angry bulls.

Evading some blows whilst falling prey to others, the two battling males glared resentfully at each other, teeth clenched heatedly, frames shaking with effort and ire. Though their injuries didn't last long, their brawl was serious and hectic, violent and angry.

At some point, all while dodging and striking back, the Kuchiki noble, in need for an ounce of decency, dove for the other male's previously discarded shawl and wrapped it around lower half.

However, with his focus briefly diverted, the blonde immediately took the advantage to gain the upper hand.

Losing no time, Jugo rammed hard into Byakuya, capturing the latter's wrists as the noble lost his footing, before kneeing him brutally in the stomach - a form of payback for before - prior to harshly shoving him to the floor and violently serving him unrelenting kicks to the side.

Horrified and awfully concerned, Ichigo parted his lips, but halted just in time, realizing that he had been about to call the noble by his name. So, the teen resorted to biting his lip instead, and tensely watch on, wishing the dark-haired male the best of luck.

Coercing the scuffling Kuchiki to his stomach, the blonde pinned the other's wrists behind his back - but did not cuff them back, yet - and then put down all his weight on him, his long hair cascading around them like a thread curtain - having previously lost his hair tie at some point.

"I so _knew_ you'd be fun to play with from the minute I saw you," grinned Jugo sadistically as he watched the other struggle to escape his grip, before he dug his sharp, manicured nails hard in the arms he was confining, drawing a sharp hiss from the latter "Fight me _more_ , if you _can_."

The piqued noble's lip wound - caused by the very first hit to his jaw - had healed already, but there was still blood in his irately clenched teeth, much to the smug satisfaction of the blonde.

Nothing however readied Jugo, as he shifted to fix the cuffs, for the abrupt head-butt he was served straight on, knocking him straight across his temple and sending him reeling.

Byakuya honestly had no idea where his sudden spark of daring defiance had come from...but he _liked_ it. And now that the Kuchiki had savoured a bit of it, he didn't want to set it loose, enjoying too much dishing out his rage, forgetting all about what he patiently bid his time for.

Jumping out of the blonde male's way, the 6th Division's captain rolled off to the side into a crouch on the floor, when he then spied the whip, resting forgotten up upon the couch nearby.

Heaving, Jugo vividly turned his head, hair a total mess...and saw where the other male was looking. Blanching, the Twilight hurriedly hurtled forwards, but reacted a second too late.

Moving fast, Byakuya seized the whip and, using as much strength as he could muster, let it snap up against the blonde male, the powerful lashing served striking right across Jugo's face, drawing a sharp gasp and a curse from the latter, his hands belatedly flying upwards for cover.

Stilling vigilantly with his newly acquired weapon at hand, the shinigami captain watched warily as the blonde male, his entire frame shaking horribly, slowly retraced his hands from his face, his palms stained with irregular specks of blood.

If he had assumed him spitting at the other was enough to enrage him, the noble was fully off.

Jugo was all about pain. He _loved_ it, gladly welcoming it, taking a scuffle or an act of BDSM head-on, anytime. But _nobody_ , NOBODY, used the blonde Twilight's own whip, but himself. Even less, to use it _**on**_ _himself_.

Seriously pissed off and seething with blaring fury, Jugo snarled lividly, icy eyes now entirely ablaze, looking way too lethal all of a sudden for the Kuchiki's comfort - more so with the trail of blood dripping from the diagonal wound made halfway across the blonde's features, albeit it healing slow - so the startled noble hastily went to make use of the whip again.

But rather than hitting the mark, the blonde male swiftly evaded the strike, snatching the very tip of the whip and letting it wrap around his hand, before he gave a powerful tug, yanking the dark-haired male forwards, the latter taken by surprise and entirely losing his footing.

Using that curt movement as a momentum, Jugo took hold of a little more length of the whip, moulding it like a lasso-like wire, before locking it around the noble's neck as he drew near enough, and then clutched hard, sharply cutting off Byakuya's air, his vision starting to swim.

Struggling to breathe and unable to focus on anything else, the noble totally lost his nerve - memories of being powerless to inhale whilst in Aizen's hands choosing to resurface _now_ **(8)** \- and thus giving the other full ability to move freely, using this to drag the 6th Division's captain over to the table. The blonde male didn't falter in his movements for a second, not even with the noble scratching at Jugo's hands and arms, in an animated gesture of defence.

Tossing the dark-haired male on it with excessive force, Jugo, features still incensed and alit with an indescribable emotion, reached for one of the open boxes with his unoccupied hand, searching until he found what he was looking for. A very dangerously sharp dagger.

Raising it up high above the barely breathing male, the Twilight panted out erratically, his features cruelly lethal and crazed, his tone of voice bordering on delirious rage, looking just as murderous, if not more, than the noble had earlier: "Wanna act like a bitch, huh, candy boy?!"

With the choking hold alleviating just a little, Byakuya panted hard, pale and petrified, wide eyes staring up in alarm at the other's enraged and terribly expressive features - a terrifyingly haunted look in those dilated green eyes - before Jugo uttered slow, his voice low and shaky: "Let me see you _HEEL THEN_!"

As the Twilight roared with frenzy and aimed to stab the Kuchiki straight in the latter's face, Ichigo screamed out stridently, genuinely and horribly terrified for the noble: " _STOP_ IT!"

Too focused on each other, neither paid any heed to the teenager at all. If they had however, they would have quite noticeably seen, even though it was unbelievably brief, the drastic and startling change in those widened, horrified young brown eyes.

"New boy giving you trouble, Jay baby?"

Everyone in the room stilled, three pairs of emotionally vivid eyes slowly darting over to the open door - nobody noticing the entrance being that way until now - only to see the other two Twilights standing there - the Mohawk redhead male with an aggressively wide, malevolent grin and the short dark-haired male with a chillingly ice-cold expression.

Both Ichigo and Byakuya, eyes going very wide, felt their hearts pounding wild and hard with horror, unable to imagine how utterly unspeakable their predicament just might turn out now. It was already _very bad_ as it was. Just _one_ of the Twilights was a hellish enough experience to endure. So neither of the two captives were ready to know where being 'played around with' by the full-on trio would lead to...

As the distraught blonde male stared directly and deep into the redhead's softened amber eyes locked only with his, nothing else appeared to be surrounding them. It was suddenly just the two of them in a silent beat of mutual understanding. And, as if Jugo was under a trance, the blonde slowly calmed down, his erratic breathing steadily quietening to less panicked breaths.

His vicious grip on the Kuchiki finally lessened entirely, leaving Byakuya to roll to the side to cough and catch his breath - vividly ripping the whip off of him - whereas Jugo stood swiftly, threading his fingers through his hair.

The violent tension that had been in the air had significantly dimmed, leaving room for a more wary and worried feeling on Ichigo and Byakuya's part, while the one present between the two Twilights was totally ambiguous to them. ...What was certain, for some reason, was that the captive pair were not really the top priority at the moment.

Composed mask back in place, control back in his hands, the blonde Twilight arched a thin eyebrow with supercilious condescension, tone self-important: "I can handle him just fine."

"Not alone, you can't. Let me give you a hand or two," offered the redhead as he sauntered in with a broader grin, drawing a cynical glower from the other, crossing his arms with a snort.

"Admit that you _just_ want to fuck him, Bazz," sneered Jugo bitingly, him and the redhead currently almost standing face-to-face, with the blonde male's brisk and brutal words drawing nasty shivers from both Byakuya and Ichigo alike.

Given their growing apprehension, neither caught onto the fact that - whilst scathingly talking about the noble - Jugo and Bazz were also communicating subtly with each other, via the use of discreet facial movements.

With profound concern currently in amber eyes, the redhead gestured with his chin towards the blood stains still upon the blonde male's face, the wound healed by now.

In response, Jugo narrowed his eyes and then lowered them, before wiping the blood off carefully with the back of his hands, his head subtly tilted towards where the Kuchiki was - crouched behind the table, almost looking like he was using it under the guise of some barrier.

"Maybe," verbalised the other lazily, still in tune with the conversation - despite his features briefly tightening with rage, one that promised vengeance - before he steeled his expression and glanced over to where the darkly glaring noble was, letting his amber eyes leisurely roam over the Kuchiki's frame "He's a little piece of eye-candy. Got to acknowledge at least that."

"One of the reasons why I call him 'candy boy'."

" _Candy_ _boy_?" repeated Bazz, testing the way it sounded, before he smirked wide and licked his lips slow and suggestively "That's pretty sweet. Wonder of _that's_ how he _tastes_."

Utterly aghast, Byakuya stiffened further, utterly unable to tell now, _who_ sickened him more... And he _had_ quite the list to choose from.

"First, Suzuki-sama says he's ' _special_ '. Now _you_ fancy him," muttered Jugo tersely, using an overdramatically jealous tone, which made the redhead instantly shift his attention back onto the blonde with an amused smile, following the ploy "I feel completely and utterly _betrayed_."

Though too stressed to think, the teenager _did_ pick up on part of that. Once again, Aizen and his eerily unnatural fascination with Kuchiki Byakuya...

"Aw, don't be like that, baby. You know I love only you," stated Bazz warmly, as he smiled suavely at Jugo whilst tracing the latter's cheek, before hurriedly using his other hand to point behind him as an afterthought and adding "And Kandu, of course."

"Oh? You actually remembered that I _exist_?" drawled out Kandu sarcastically from where he stood, still at the entrance with a sardonic expression to his features "Smooth, Bazz. Really."

"Man, you're so discreet, it's hard," the redhead male stated brazenly, dramatically, before he glanced over his shoulder and winked saucily at the other "Be more like me."

"Heaven forbid that," grimaced the dark-haired Twilight with a fraudulent show of shivering in disgust, causing Bazz to guffaw noisily and Jugo to smirk.

Rolling his cold blue eyes at the other two, Kandu moved to shut the door behind him, before making his way in, whilst the redhead Twilight shifted his rapt attention back onto the noble.

Scanning over the latter's stiff frame for a while with a disturbing and calculating gleam in his eyes, Bazz, acting suddenly and swiftly, lunged for the shinigami captain, doing so at the very same time as Kandu, and barely giving Byakuya time to react.

The Kuchiki _had_ been expecting something to happen, but he was too focused on the redhead - who made him terribly uneasy and wary - not imagining that the dark-haired Twilight would be fast enough to also interfere.

Biting his lip hard, the Shinigami Substitute could only watch, horridly helpless, as those two quickly held the dark-haired noble down, coercing him to his knees and restraining his arms behind his back, swiftly attempting to cuff him again.

Gritting his teeth and grunting, Byakuya fought back, firm on giving them a difficult time, but Bazz - not wasting anytime to retaliate on Jugo's behalf - swiftly kneed the noble hard, right in the nose, breaking it with a loud, sickening noise.

Gasping and hissing in agony, the shinigami captain, eyes tightly scrunched closed, struggled to breathe through the abundant blood flow now seeping from the damage inflicted, his pained inhalation sharp and irregular.

As Ichigo's jaw dropped in absolute horror, the blonde locked appreciative eyes with roguish amber ones, before Jugo covertly blew Bazz a kiss, the latter winking back with a broad grin.

"How did he even break out of them?" wondered Kandu aloud, as he cast a meticulous look at the cuffs, checking if they were broken somewhere, whilst the blonde male raised an eyebrow.

"I'm just as stumped, believe me."

That question was actually well in order. How _did_ this happen?

Realistically, it was basically impossible to break free of them the way Zakura had done. ... _Unless_ , they hadn't been properly locked closed in the first place.

This conjecture immediately led Jugo to ominously glance over towards the young male, who couldn't help but recoil under those stony green accusing eyes, a blush of guilt to cream skin.

Hm. Case solved, apparently.

Features now impassive, the blonde wordlessly, slowly arched an eyebrow, before he grinned. So, it wasn't just the dark-haired that had nerve, eh? ...Good to know.

"Should we take it from where you left off, Jay?" offered Kandu, glancing at the teen for a minute, before focusing back on the blonde, while Bazz threw mocking whispers at the lividly glaring Kuchiki "What are they doing anyways?"

"Oral," replied Jugo, before he gave the 6th Division's captain a nasty look, revelling in the sight of blood streaming down the latter's features - it _really_ suited him to be tainted. And, right now, he'd kill to see more of that.

"Though, with what just happened, I'm _very_ tempted to give candy boy a piece of my mind."

Defiantly glowering back with extreme resentment, the Kuchiki couldn't help but inwardly feel awfully nervous under the blonde Twilight's gaze.

Byakuya genuinely didn't like those eyes at the moment. They reminded him too much of Aizen Sosuke...when the latter appeared to want to eat him alive.

Upon seeing his beloved blonde stare down at the other with an air of feral craving he was all too familiar with, Bazz smirked knowingly: "What's stopping you, Jay baby?"

" _Please_ don't tempt me, love," chided Jugo hastily, biting his lip with worry as his immediate thought was that he didn't have the _consent_ to carry out what his dear redhead was implying...

Their master had been crystal clear. They were never to get _physical_ with any of the trainee dolls - which explained them always using sex toys and the like - unless ordered otherwise.

...Unless ordered otherwise?

What _had_ Suzuki-sama said exactly? Wasn't it: ' _I expect these two to be aware of the basics as soon as possible. Understood? Feel free to be adventurous, if it gets things done faster._ '

000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _I'm living dead_

 _Only alive_

 _When I pretend_

 _That I have died_

 _ **(Living Dead, by Marina and the Diamonds)**_

Doll was bored. Bored out of her mind.

That was not the _only_ thing she was feeling at the moment, but due to how utterly destructive and dangerous the other emotion was, she was focusing only on her apathetic sense of tedium.

Speaking of apathy, being so detached was a feat that had progressively become natural and rather reflexive to her. She just really didn't care. Or at least, it was rather best that she didn't. Because when she did, it would give room to the worst part of her. Her-

"Um, this one was the last of our set, Gamine-chan," voiced Fukaku all of a sudden, bringing the magenta-haired girl back to reality, dragging away from her darkened inner thoughts.

Ah. Dealing with reality.

What a distressing predicament it was, when, in truth, Doll was far more at ease in her own little world, despite it not being in any way an idyllic utopia of sorts...

Oh, well. Back to the current time it was then.

Large magenta eyes leisurely returned to focus, falling upon the row of over more than twenty boys and girls, all similar in attire and barely older than twelve - if it wasn't even less - on their knees, every single one of them with those chillingly hollow faces and eyes. ...Ghastly.

With the man's announcement, Doll feigned a look of surprise, before she let out a dramatic, heavy sigh, shaking her head as though with profound contrite: " _Such_ a shame."

The tone she had used had led Grimmjow to arch an eyebrow upwards. Though she _looked_ it, she sounded all but apologetic.

As the two young men grumbled impatiently at the back and Majima seethed silently, Fukaku attempted to find a way to persuade the magenta-haired to reconsider what they were offering.

"Are you truly positive that nothing caught your eye, Gamine-chan?" inquired the tall man, with polite persistence "Perhaps not for the doll collection, but what of combatants? Fighters, hm? I have heard of the renowned Hunt _Débauche_ hosts. These little dears are quite efficient as weapons also. Their lack of emotions make it unchallenging for them to slay, regardless of the targets' specifics - age, gender and so on. The best killing machines there could ever be."

The magenta-haired girl blinked. ...A killing machine with no emotions, was it? How quaint.

As Grimmjow, not liking a single word he had just heard, narrowed his eyes with aversion, Doll, remaining silent, merely gave Fukaku and the others an empty, blank gaze - not that different from the one within the children's eyes - and no one within the large basement knew what to make of it, except that it was rather intimidating enough to render them just as quiet.

That aside, Doll had been dealing with Sosuke's affairs for years now, so she could claim to have a fairly deep insight on how he thought, acted and so forth. And in all his impeccable immorality, the child of chaos _still_ maintained a sense of revulsion towards what struck him personally as unethical, as in things he would _never_ do - at least, not _himself_.

However, the mystery boss behind this very particular line of work was incredibly obstinate, firmly dogged on allying itself with Sosuke - given the latter's strategic position in society - in order to broaden its production's horizons.

Only, Doll utterly refused for Sosuke to have anything to do with that wicked beast that called itself a 'man'. Not now, not ever.

"Nah. The Master won't need them for that," she stated assertively, fake smile back in play, before her eyes glinted mysteriously "He already has an army of undead soldiers. Here, you have one of its former members."

As she gestured towards a staggered Grimmjow - astonished that she knew - the other men in the room tensed, seeing the feline in a new light, with Fukaku sweating nervously: "I- I see."

"Maybe next time," she offered sweetly, wearing an expression of dispassionate pleasantness, inwardly feeling relieved, and more than ready to bring this terribly taxing meeting to an end.

Whereas the tall, lanky man bowed politely, willing to leave, the stout man was having none of that, exploding aggressively with an even uglier fury, features contorted by animosity: " _The fucking hell_?! This is _exactly_ why I don't like dealing with anyone else here but Suzuki-san!"

" _Majima-san_."

" _No_. I _will_ speak, Fukaku!" snapped Majima sharply, glaring at his more sensible colleague, before turning his resentment back onto the unruffled, stoic girl " _You_. You fucking do this on purpose! _Every_ fucking time! When you cover for Suzuki-san, you never accept _any_ of the boss's deals! We're on the brink of ruin with your constant refusal, damn it! No fucking wonder Mr Wile fucking resents you!"

While glaring critically, the feline also cringed. ... _Mr Wile_ **(9)**? What kind of a name was _that_?

With merely the corner of her mouth twitching upon her impassive features, she forced down a shrill laugh that threatened to flee past her lips, amused by the other's pretentious ignorance.

Contrary to Sosuke, these guys' boss - infamous, heinous 'Mr Wile' - didn't make a habit to let those around it in on what it _truly_ was.

To them, their boss was simply eccentric and eerily creepy, chilling, nerve-wracking. In short, scary as hell, but a damn good payday insurer.

She nearly laughed out loud again. Oh, if only they knew, knew _what_ they were working for, they wouldn't sleep...for the rest of their lives.

"I'm sorry, Majima-san, but I do think you're greatly exaggerating. While my Master and your boss _have_ shared mutual benefits for quite some time now, my Master is not your boss's _only_ client. Let's state the facts as they are," uttered the girl, sobering up enough to speak fluently, before she smiled a little yet with immense condescension, an eyebrow arching high "And as much as it irks you, I _**am**_ here, and merely acting upon the Master's point of view. And I'm well-placed to do so, as I am the _only_ doll to have known him the longest."

"No kidding. You have an explicitly assigned spot in his _bed_ , so yeah. _Obviously_. Fucking gagging whores like you will do _anything_ their dear sugar daddy asks of them," scorned the stout man heatedly, his spitefully narrowed eyes trailing over her figure, from head to toe.

The doll-like girl once more stayed without reaction, having had her fair share of insults, defaming and so much more throughout her entire life.

So, this was nothing. Nothing new at all. She could do this all night. It could always be worse.

 _However_ , that appalling man should have kept it at that and held his tongue, for his very next slur, pulled hard at her very last nerve, making her explode before she could even think.

Why? ...Because that insult hadn't been directed at her this time. But at Sosuke.

She was bitterly livid with Sosuke, no doubt there. But their feud was private, personal, _theirs_. It concerned nor regarded anyone else but them. Hence, no one knew - apart from the ever-present Witch of Lust and those meddling Twilights - and no will. And she'd rather bite off her tongue, than not use it to defend Sosuke against _anyone_ who attempted to speak ill of him.

"Tch. Guess for a fucking bint like you, it just takes a sodding, manky slag like that master of yours. That ass-fucking bastard," spat Majima virulently, while Fukaku gaped at his colleague with an aghast expression.

Doll's breathing hitched inaudibly, eyes hardening with lethality. Now _that_ , she'd not forgive.

Instantly snapping back to reality upon hearing the stout man's venom, Grimmjow - though as foul as his own tongue could be at times - had honestly never heard anyone foolish enough to deliver such a slew of insults thrown at the immortal.

The latter maybe wasn't _here_ , true, but the former Arrancar knew, that the other should have _never_ uttered those words. Especially not with the doll-like girl's previously dulled features brutally begin to shift, which sent a series of ominous chills throughout everyone present - even Grimmjow, despite having yet to see her fully, but had caught the change starting out of the corner of his eye - who all were quick to recoil fearfully and take a wary step back. The only ones who stayed completely put, were the hollow-like children, as if dead to the world.

"...Did you just _dare_ speak ill of the Master."

She didn't _even_ bother to make the intonation of a question, her bleak voice cold, frozen, ice...

And then, after a piercingly abrupt sense of sinister, killer intent out in the air, nothing made sense anymore...

One second, the blue-haired male had been about to edgily glance at the seemingly ignited girl, and in the very next second, within a total blur of rapid movement, he had punched the stout man right across the jaw, a sick cracking sound following the motion.

Only, the feline's sudden and unexpected assault didn't stop there.

Fuelled by an obscure, blazing hellfire of pure hostility he could not name nor bring to a halt, Grimmjow uncontrollably threw punch after punch, striking relentlessly, violently, not giving the other a moment of respite, not even when the victim in question was sent to the floor. It was a no-holds-barred beat down.

Apart from the sheer violence overtaking his senses and the brutal, bloody sight unfolding in front of him, the feline wasn't at all in touch with his surroundings. It was as though he was somewhat unplugged, dissociated, disengaged from everything but whatever was coercing him in motion, as if that was the _only_ thing that mattered.

While a mere couple of a seconds seemed to have lasted hours, as abruptly as it had hit him, the drive suddenly left his being, finally allowing his awareness back in control.

And by the time he realized what had transpired, Grimmjow, was completely flabbergasted, not at all able to comprehend what had occurred. Nor _how_ it had occurred, other than nothing he had just done was of his own volition. ...It was like he had _absolutely_ no control over his _entire_ being.

Breathing hard and heart hammering with painful exertion, the former Arrancar clutched his bloodied hands into fists, reeling at how startling that experience had been, resenting the feel of being caged within his own self...

' _Don't interfere, at all'_ she had said.

Sure thing. But just _how_ did one do _that_ , when his interference came along totally uninvited?

Wide blown, shaken blue eyes numbly looked away from the maimed, heaving man beneath him, before the former Espada's attention was then drawn to Fukaku and the other two - the young men having jumpily drawn out their weapons by now, aimed right at him. But rather than that bit, it was actually their expressions that was making the feline more anxious.

Their features were the epitome of fear. They were so afraid, so frightened, that it was almost palpable. But none of them were looking at him in such a way. They were all looking at _her_...

Stiffening, he carefully glanced over his shoulder, inquisitive but dreading what he would see.

However, whatever had been was no longer there, for her features had receded back to their detached state - as she hadn't been angry to begin with - her eyes silently regarding the badly beaten man with lofty and spiteful disdain.

Just like the former Arrancar, Majima was totally out of context, unable to understand what had happened...other than he had just been pummelled to the floor by the blue-haired male.

Mostly boiling with rage, he powerfully shoved the former Espada off of him, before getting up laboriously, and then pointing a stubby finger down at the feline: "Y- You have no right! You're just an insignificant _doll_! You have n- no right to touch me! The Code _demands_ it!"

The frowning former Arrancar blinked up at the other with total bafflement. ...The _what_ now?

Grimmjow was totally and completely at sea, and decidedly getting fed up of it. He'd have to find a way to figure how things worked around here. And _quick_.

A curt, childish yet cutting laugh suddenly broke the gravity of the moment, leading everyone to promptly redirect their attention over to the girl, who had her hand clamped over her mouth as she tried to reign in her mocking mirth, magenta eyes slightly widened.

Grimmjow eyed her warily, feeling terribly uneasy. Whilst she _appeared_ less livid then prior, there was something very different about her entire demeanour.

It was now even deadlier, and even less controlled, effervescent. But what made it even more worrying, was that her face still showed _nothing_ of what she felt, mask steadfastly in place.

Bewildered at how she could just laugh in this situation, they all merely gawked at her as Doll managed to compose herself, before she threw a patronizing look in the stout man's direction.

"Of course, Majima-san. You're _absolutely_ right. We dolls are bound by the Code. However, this Code of which you speak binds us only where it's applied. And that's _only_ in and on the grounds of _Débauche_."

At that, Majima's confusion deepened further amidst his ire: "Wha-?! We _ARE_ in _Débauche_!"

"No, no, dear. I said 'in' and 'on'," she contradicted smoothly with a slow shake of her head, before the very same glint from earlier shone again in her large eyes "But, right now, we're in neither. We're currently _under_ the grounds of _Débauche_."

Blanching, Majima's jaw dropped, the silent, subtle statement behind her words crystal clear.

' _You're not safe_ _ **here**_ _, you know?'_

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" roared the stout man, with a steadily growing hint of fear to his rage and rave.

"Do banish that thought, good sir. I would _never_ joke about something like that," she stated simply, right before her courteous features then harshly dropped the very next instant, leaving room to that chilling emptiness yet again "Now, Majima-san, do please lower your weapon."

Her request sounded all but one, coming out more like a lethal command. And quite rightfully so, with the seething, panicky man pointing a handgun aimed straight at Grimmjow's temple, the latter too taken aback to do or have done anything, before he stiffened.

He knew well what a firearm was, at least from the perspective of Coyote Stark's zanpaktou. Hence, the feline knew perfectly well that he was a great disadvantage, first in proximity and then in position, as he could neither react nor dodge. And though aware that wounds inflicted to these bodies they wore here in _Débauche_ would heal, Grimmjow had no guarantee at all that it would be the same in the case of a fatal wound...

As the feline hastily tried to figure out what to do, he didn't take in account that the stout man wasn't seeking anyone's permission, dead set on _shooting_ the blue-haired male dead-on.

"Like _hell_ I will!" shouted Majima wildly, crudely flipping off Doll with his free hand, before he glared down furiously, crazily at the feline "Die fucking bitch!"

Grimmjow had never been quite afraid of death. At some point, he had even sought to make it happen, and would have welcomed it with open arms.

But right now, at this moment of his existence, _he_ didn't matter, so the blue-haired downright refused to let it take place, instinctively getting ready to move, due to this wandering yet weighty thought in a cyclic loop in his mind: _'Like fuckin' hell am I leaving the kid behind.'_

One single loud shot echoed deafeningly in the suffocating atmosphere surrounding them all.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

 _With you, I don't have to try_

 _You get no love, so bye-bye_

 _It's easier than stealing candy from a baby_

 _I like it hot in your mouth_

 _ **(Stealing Candy from a Baby, by Porcelain Black)**_

Byakuya had once believed Aizen to be the worst being he had ever had the misfortune of encountering. However, he'll have to amend that assertion and transform it into 'Aizen being _one_ of the worst beings he had ever encountered'.

If the child of chaos was a devil, the Twilights were true demons. Every. Single. One of them.

Contrary to the immortal's actions - however vile and sinister they may be - having a veiled reason or an unknown purpose, the Twilights' deeds appeared to hold no ulterior or elaborate motives whatsoever. They knew what they were doing, _enjoyed_ what they were doing, but had no _reason_ for doing it. Maybe other than having permission making it so that they _could_ do it.

Following their previous exchange where Bazz seemed to have given Jugo a _really_ foul idea, the Twilights, startlingly in synch, had forcefully coerced the now cuffed shinigami captain over to the table, pinning him down stomach flat, hindering any hopes of struggle.

Wrestling against the noble and effortlessly winning due to a sheer advantage in number and position, the blonde male had then reached out for the boxes - whilst the other two Twilights put their weight onto Byakuya - before getting what he needed. A set of thin wire-like ropes.

Rearranging those in his hands, Jugo had been swift to loop their tight, taut coldness around the noble, working them over his arms and chest, restricting all possible arm-movement, with the other two males smoothly accommodating the blonde as he went.

Merely focusing on battling his way, the Kuchiki had barely made note of Ichigo pleading for the Twilights to stop, begging them to leave Byakuya be.

Regardless, the noble had never stood a chance, as the bindings had been so efficient and so rapidly dealt with that one could assume that the three had done this all their lives. ...Probably not that far from the truth anyways.

Once they had been confident enough that the shinigami could no longer move an inch of his arms, Jugo had added more one thing to his handiwork, fastening it tightly close and secure, and that had immediately made Byakuya grow iced cold amidst his burning rattle and rage.

A collar. With a leash. A studded _dog collar_ , with a _chain leash_. Reduced to a pleasure pet, and now to an _actual_ pet. ...Just how far down will this ruining humiliation actually drag him?

That question was redundant in truth. It was evidently clear that was still worse to come, an unpromising time ahead he would dare not picture.

Smirking darkly at the sheer revulsion and horror that had flashed across the noble's face, the blonde had reached up, his sharp nails tracing along the contours of the Kuchiki's stiffened features, almost appearing tempted to scratch the soft, pretty pale skin right off.

Instead, his hand had then travelled back down before settling on the collar, lazily caressing it with unnerving appreciation as he had commented scathingly, his tone a daunting whisper: "It looks _so_ good on you, candy boy."

Before Byakuya could manage a full-on hateful glare, Jugo had swiftly shifted and given an unrelenting tug on the leash, smirking giddily as the Kuchiki noble made a choked sound as he was ruthlessly dragged off the table and onto his knees, touching down with a painful thud.

"Come on, hon," had sneered Jugo, adoring how his next order rolled off his tongue " _Crawl_."

Begrudgingly complying after but a moment of unreserved loathing, it had actually taken _all_ of himself to not break down or bark back. ...He should really _**not**_ be using the word 'bark'.

Once again, without the use of his hands, crawling had not been an easy task and falling over had been far too close for comfort - the leash had actually aided him a little for balance. That and Bazz, leisurely following just behind him, had swiftly righted the noble's every misstep.

Having moved away barely a couple of minutes prior, Kandu had gone over to pick up one of those messily strewn chairs, before - after dragging it out until it was adjacent to the bed, but a good few feet away - comfortably seating himself upon it, waiting patiently.

Then, Jugo and Bazz had walked the shinigami captain over to where the third Twilight was, dragging Byakuya until they had managed to force his chin upon the very edge of the seat - right between the other's already parted leather-clad legs - whilst Kandu had slightly, slowly shifted forwards and silently begun to unbuckle his belt, before reaching for his zipper.

And that's when _everything_ had started spiralling further downwards for the Kuchiki noble. Whereas horrifying humiliation and indignation had spiked tenfold, Byakuya, alas no longer ignorant on male 'interaction', had immediately realized that they were going to make him-

 _No_. No way was he allowing _this_. Not this.

So, for the umpteenth time since it all began, he had valiantly resisted.

Only, he eventually gathered - though, alas, not fast enough and with great blows to his pride - that the more he tried to fight the trio, the _longer_ they'd dragged on the abuse and torment out as much as they could, adding further to the unbecoming and utterly debasing vilification they were so delightfully inflicting upon him.

As such, with the shinigami captain's outraged struggle being in pathetic vain, the dark-haired Twilight had, obviously, gone first. His movements methodical and measured, he had worked his turn meticulously, taking his time. _All_ his time.

Whilst Bazz and Jugo had kneeled behind and besides the Kuchiki - far too close for comfort - grabbing the latter's face and hair in vice grips and guiding him to the other's already exposed hard-on, Kandu had gingerly taken hold of his length and had nudged it forwards, pressing the tip against the sickened noble's tightened lips, defiantly clasped closed.

Nimble fingers - Byakuya didn't know whose - had sharply coerced his mouth open, wedging themselves past his teeth and prying his jaw wide apart.

The noble had barely had the time to let out an enraged sound of protest, before it was stifled, muffled, Kandu leisurely sliding his way in, slavering saliva smoothing his intrusion.

' _This is_ _ **cannot**_ _be happening to_ _ **me**_ _,_ ' had been the very first thought to cross Byakuya's mind right after going momentarily numb, badly shaken by what was taking place. The noble had always had so much control in his life. ...Where was it now?

The moment surrounding him hadn't paused however, the redhead and blonde males jeering at him denigrating slanders right in his ears, whereas their companion above them moved with a smooth continual flexing of his hips, his pace steady, unhurried.

As the feel of thick, hot hardened flesh and the tang of slickened skin saturated his sense of taste, the Kuchiki, with a furious streak of dissent, had mildly considered biting his violator.

But Jugo had somehow picked up on that, for he had briskly hissed forebodingly: "Bite him - I _dare_ you - and I _swear_ , I'll shove this right in. _Dry_."

A rigid, warning tap at his bare shoulder had caused the noble to squint down as to see what the blonde was on about, only to catch sight of that pink _thing_ **(7)** , held up nastily in warning.

Easily grasping the ill intent, Byakuya had shuddered at the threat, begrudgingly submitting to the abusive and out of his hands assault, until he could, hopefully, conjure up an alternative.

And so he had hollowly endured it, lowering his eyes to the side - tearing his humiliated gaze away from the ones stiflingly surrounding him, for he did not trust them at all to close his eyes - as Kandu had obscenely made use of his mouth, lazily thrusting in and out, not a twitch in his expression nor a flinch in his pace - the only thing to hint at any exertion on the Twilight's part being the start of a faint sweat to his brow.

After what seemed to have lasted ages, with a single soft groan, the dark-haired Twilight had ejaculated, exploding with long spurts of warm semen - which coated the inside of the noble's mouth, trickling in and down his throat - earning another wave of abject horror from Byakuya.

The fiend. Had just. Climaxed. _**In**_ _his mouth_.

A vivid nausea had overtaken him at that precise moment and he had wanted nothing more but to spit everything out before vomiting, utterly uncaring of how unmannerly it would seem.

Still taking his time, Kandu had ridden off his orgasm with a couple more deliberate thrusts, before he then pulled out and stood up, staring down apathetically as a shuddering Byakuya curled over, gagging and sputtering for he flat-out refused to keep in what he had been served.

The thought of doing... _this_ particular sexual act had never crossed the noble's mind, not even out of curiosity. ...That wasn't totally true, no. It _had_ crossed his mind **(11)** , but had definitely not been something that he was or had been looking forward to.

...No escape now, unfortunately.

Cum and spit dripping from his trembling parted lips, the 6th Division's captain, appalled and panting hard, had glared pitch-black daggers at the dark-haired Twilight - who was tranquilly tucking himself back in - but the latter seemed entirely unfazed.

And, just like that, it had then been the redhead's turn, who easily swapped places with Kandu - but, rather than sitting, stayed standing instead.

However, whereas the first Twilight had acted dreadfully unhurried, Bazz had been brutal. _Extremely_ brutal, like he was brutality incarnate.

The dark-haired noble had not seen it coming, still attempting to catch his breath, barely even recovered from the first assault, before the word 'assault' then briskly altered into 'onslaught'.

Bazz hadn't required anyone to keep the Kuchiki's head stable, fisting only one hand tightly within the noble's long black locks, the hold firm and painful, but _nothing_ compared to when the redhead had unceremoniously, slickly, plunged right in, uninvited and without warning.

Grey eyes flying wide, the noble had let out a strangled sound, helplessly stretched wider than with his former violator - Bazz's length, all girth, cramming his mouth full, the tip somewhere deep past the opening of his throat - as the redhead raided his mouth, going at a cadence so wild, so aggressive that Byakuya, choking and gagging, couldn't follow nor adapt to the pace.

Residue from Kandu's incursion had made Bazz's penetration all the easier for the latter, permitting him to slither in and out, pounding vigorously like he was on a quest - a quest of vengeance - his shaft a throbbing rod of heat, pulsating with cruel, sadistic excitement.

The Kuchiki had barely been able to breathe throughout the whole ordeal, wetness pricking at the sides of his eyes as he tried in vain to adjust to the hellish mistreatment.

He had been vaguely aware of the other Twilights holding onto his shoulders in order to keep him in place, not that he could've moved away if he wanted to - not with Bazz's inescapable grasp.

The sound of slapping skin and slurping saliva had filled the room - along with Jugo's snide, softly spoken comments, heckling, mocking - as Bazz, lazily licking his lips with a taunting grin, had imposingly forced Byakuya's head to bob back and forth with vehement violence in tandem to his rough, rushed thrusts, the noble reduced to nothing but an abject ragdoll in his hands.

And it had just gone on. And on. _And on_.

So much longer than with Kandu, despite the fact that the latter had been incredibly slow. Given the redhead's harsh briskness, one would have assumed that it would be over sooner.

 _Wrong_.

Whenever Bazz seemed so close to his peak, he'd abruptly stop - breathing hard as he waited a minute - prior to going off again, holding back his release each time to viciously prolong the tortuous, throttling moment for Byakuya.

"You'll have to work overtime to get over your gag reflex," had commented at some point the redhead in a breathless, berating tone, along with a wide and wickedly wry grin "See, I'll bet _anything_ , that the dear patrons will have you down on your knees and sucking them off more than you'd like. Better get used to it."

In addition, the mishandling here had been worse. Byakuya had the distinct impression that he was purely being seen and used as a mere object, nothing more, as the other violently moved, grunting with effort as he rammed in and out, and then in again, pace punitive and persistent.

But, the name calling and vilifying during that particular episode had been much, _much_ worse.

' _How do you like that, huh, fucking slut?_ '

' _Yeah, feel me fuck-facing you, bitch!_ '

' _Go on and eat that dick, fucking cunt._ '

' _Whore._ '

With those unspeakable and horrible, _horrible_ diatribes, Byakuya. Had truly. Wanted. To _die_.

He still did. But at that moment then, the feeling had been markedly crushing, overwhelming. It was truly depressing, but yet so real, how words could absolutely destroy a person in but a matter of seconds.

Furthermore, Bazz apparently had so much stamina and charge that he could just make this go on forever. And the more it went on, the more the 6th Division's captain felt his will weaken.

All the while, Jugo had watched every bit with rapt attention, biting his lower lip with sharp and unrestrained glee. It was exhilarating to 'break' the rules every now and then, only Jugo quite frankly would have never had the courage to do any of it, if Bazz hadn't suggested first.

Besides, it wasn't like they had infringed Suzuki-sama's orders _that_ much. Even if they had, it was totally worth it.

Unlike Kandu, when Bazz had _finally_ come, hard and long, he hadn't pulled out, but sneered down at his tarnished prey instead, telling him that they'd stay just the way they were... _until_ Byakuya swallowed. As if all the latter had just gone through hadn't been enough.

"I'm warning you," had added the redhead, grinning nastily while he repressively tightened his hold as the noble glared defiantly "Throw it back up and you'll be licking it off the floor."

Cringing with absolute disgust at the stodgy taste - one he hadn't even bothered to reflect on but urgently wished to get rid of - the shinigami, scalp throbbing in pain, had reluctantly done as he was told, holding back his nausea as he grimly gulped down - in two to three strenuous go's - that thick, gruesome unctuous fluid, now churning unpleasantly within his lurching gut.

Only then had Bazz finally pulled away, his slick length steadily dislodging from the noble's slackened and sore mouth, which was shining prettily with dripping drool and residual cum.

Despite having been doused twice with male essence - and bitterly attempting to not give in to the undying urge to hurl it all up - Byakuya felt disturbingly empty.

...Numb.

The Kuchiki noble had utterly lost track of time, but what was crystal clear to him was that he could no longer feel his knees or any of his tightly restrained limbs...or his jaw for that matter.

The pain denting his skin from the previous hours of fighting back had now faded to nothing. But the vivid pain behind his exhausted and moist bloodshot grey eyes was still bleeding raw.

Byakuya wasn't broken beyond repair per se - not yet anyways - but he was certainly feeling a lot less inclined to dare and rebel, not at all willing to endure _this_ particular bane again. Or at least, not anytime soon, if it could be prevented by...well, 'behaving', doing as he was told...

Steadying his breath after his recently acquired high, Bazz brushed a hand casually through his Mohawk, smirking smugly with satisfaction when the quiet noble remained stock still, his aching jaw loosely hanging midway open, his dim-lit obscured grey eyes down to the ground.

Wiping his brow clumsily, the redhead dipped down to Jugo's level, so they were face to face, grinning wide as his amber eyes regarded the sadistic blonde's glowing features: "Happy?"

" _Ecstatic_ ," breathed Jugo ardently, knowing well what Bazz had just done and _why_ he did it.

The blonde male then swiftly seized the other by the cheeks, before promptly planting a deep wide-mouth, appreciative kiss to the redhead's anticipating lips.

"Lovebirds," muttered Kandu under his breath with no real bite, rolling his eyes at the other two as they made out passionately, uncaring that it was neither the time nor place.

For them, it was just perfect.

Shakily rendering himself silent when his pleas for leniency towards Byakuya went entirely ignored, Ichigo had instantly looked away, powerless and self-loathing, utterly unable to bear that he could do nothing to offer the shinigami captain any help. Nothing at all.

The teen _hated_ what was happening to them, and more so due to the noble suffering the worst.

It was only when things had appeared to quieten down somewhat - relying by the sounds of it - that the Shinigami Substitute dared to chance a glance, mostly to check on the Kuchiki.

Out of _everything_ however, the teenager had _not_ been expecting to see two of the Twilights kissing away zealously like there was no tomorrow, right over the shoulder of what seemed to be an alarmingly catatonic-like Byakuya, mouth hanging halfway open and trickling wet with-

The teen shuddered, horrified, promptly guessing but genuinely hoping that he was wrong. And alas, there wasn't much to support on that, not with what he had unmistakably overheard.

Though instantly worried for Rukia's brother, Ichigo couldn't help but look at the blonde and redhead males for a moment with aghast curiosity. The Twilights just seemed... _so_ comfortable with each other, certainly a far cry from whatever relationship he, Grimmjow and Byakuya had. Or rather, didn't have.

Oblivious and indifferent to the world around them, Bazz, though seemingly chill and aloof, was inwardly seething, cursing the shinigami captain up and down with every swear word he knew and resenting that he didn't do _worse_ to the other.

The truth was, he and his dear, pretty blonde lover went way back, so Bazz could quite easily claim that he knew the blonde Twilight better than anyone else did. And it was no lie.

So, basically, he could effortlessly tell - without an instant of hesitance - that Jugo had had a panic attack earlier - as a result of being struck by the whip...Christ, a _whip_ \- although the blonde male had done his best to mask it with resentment. Moreover, if he and Kandu hadn't gotten involved when they had, their favourite blonde would have most likely gone on a full-on wild and deadly rampage, one that would have been hell to stop.

Though quick to aggravate and swift to become anyone's enemy, Jugo wasn't quite the easiest of individuals to ruffle up. And, from the blonde's own outlook at least, he had long buried his past memories far behind him, doing that as soon as he had set foot in _Débauche_ for good.

But, alas, not everything could be _fully_ forgotten. Therefore, there were a few situations that could trigger a _very_ violent reaction from the blonde, if one did not tread with extreme care...

Bazz's hands clenched discreetly. No one messed with _his_ Jugo and got away with it, damn it. That dark-haired male - Zakura, right? - had _a lot_ more coming his way. Just he wait.

Much to Ichigo's increasing concern, though those two Twilights were _still_ at it, the Kuchiki noble remained dead silent and still, completely withdrawn within himself.

But little did the teen know, Byakuya was actually resorting to a sort of coping mechanism he hadn't used in a while, one he wasn't too fond of using despite the huge comfort it provided.

When he was much younger and he had begun his duties as a shinigami, hard to believe as it may, it had been very difficult for him to kill at first. Not Hollows - for it was easy to keep in mind that they were bloodthirsty, forsaken beasts - but rather everyone or everything else.

The power to take a life, permanently, was a relatively shocking and startling feat for young Byakuya. No matter how justified the deed, taking one's life also took from the slayer's soul in the long run. Or, so he had heard.

So, in time, to salvage himself, he came up with something that kind of helped him. Blanking. His mind, his thoughts, his surroundings... Just making them all blank, as if it was all nought.

It wasn't that healthy, albeit not at all, because too much use of it had extended itself over to his sentiments after a while - all due to a continuous piling up of hardships, notably Hisana's passing - and had eventually made him practically emotionless. And no better than a Hollow.

Disconnected, detached, Byakuya had slowly ridden himself of what made a soul so humane. Feelings.

It was terrifying, but over time, far too soothing to relinquish. To feel nothing. No pain. No anguish. None of that. Even the loss of positive emotions were worth it. And it was those very conclusive thoughts that made doing this so unhealthy.

It was with, later on, Kurosaki Ichigo's intervention to save Rukia's life that made him realize with intense horror what he had slowly been allowing himself to become. So, after that entire incident, he had judiciously opted to put his coping mechanism aside.

But, right now, at this time, he desperately needed to make use of it. Or he'd just might break.

"No need to blank out your mind, candy boy. We never _gave_ you the right," declared one of the Twilights, their tone scathingly cruel and cuttingly cold, but the Kuchiki noble honestly couldn't tell which one was talking to him "And that's something you'll leave _for_ the patrons _when_ you're skilled enough. It's a little too early for that."

Byakuya's heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. ...Would this hellish nightmare ever even end?

"I imagine that you wish for your suffering to come to an end," uttered Jugo all of a sudden, as if reading the noble's mind, while his hand reached out to the Kuchiki's collar and nastily tugged for the noble to face him "But games are fun. And _ours_ , candy boy, have just begun."

Now totally hoisted out of his protective bubble, Byakuya's expression hardened as he shot a venomous glare at the scathing, smirking blonde, who had brazenly dared to sound almost apologetic. _Almost_. The blonde male was evidently enjoying this too much to truly be contrite.

The look of sheer hatred in those grey eyes, apoplectic with rage, held such ferocity that it led the Twilights to first raise their eyebrows in wonder, before they either sneered or scoffed, visibly regaled, whereas Bazz drawled out dryly, derisively: "Looks don't kill, honey. Glare _all_ you want."

The redhead's tough, rough voice had an immediate effect on the noble, making him stiffen. And Jugo, shrewd as ever, sharply noticed the Kuchiki's reaction, and a harsh, vicious gleam shimmered in those stone green eyes of his: "Oh yes, candy boy. Be _very_ afraid of Bazz."

Byakuya honestly didn't need anyone to tell him to be. Bazz's amber eyes conveyed nothing but ill intent for the noble, and the latter wasn't reassured by it one bit. He was so intimidated by the other's blatant brutality to the point that he even dreaded what being left alone with the redhead would entail. Needless to say, the 6th Division's captain didn't wish to find out. _Ever_.

To top it all, there was no longer just arrogant amusement within the three Twilights' features, but also a rather predatory, gloating satisfaction, surely proud of what they had done and what they had yet to do.

And it was spine-chilling.

But the Kuchiki noble, as apprehensive as they may make him be, tried to not let that get to him. Since, no matter how hard things were or got, Byakuya _had to_ imperatively recall that-

' _-all this is to spare Rukia and my family. It is best if it is you and not them. All this is to spare Rukia and my family. It is best if it is you and not-'_ kept on reiterating the 6th Division's captain over again and again, like a mantra, something to keep him going, holding on...

He had been berating himself time and again ever since he had barely recalled just now the words that mercilessly uttered by the cruel, immoral immortal, under the dark, rainy sky **(12)**.

" _Defy me once, only_ _once_ _, and I'll view it as you reneging."_

" _Considering that your relatives hold no particular importance to me, I can rid myself of them whenever I feel like it. Or maybe even defile them. What do you think? Death is actually far too merciful. Perhaps I should round up the most vicious and depraved rapists of the Rukongai and offer the remaining women of your clan to them, whilst making the rest of your clan along with you watch._ _ **Every**_ _._ _ **Single**_ _._ _ **Instant**_ _of it."_

...How _could he_ have forgotten?

"Well now, Zakura," called Jugo casually, bringing back the other's diverted attention as the blonde easily shifted up to sit himself on the chair, his hand still clasping at the noble's collar.

Haughtily looking down at the dark-haired Kuchiki with condescending contempt, the blonde Twilight smirked cruelly, running his thumb over Byakuya's moist lips with mock gentleness: "Not so high and mighty now, are we, little _whore_?"

Aware that Jugo was malignly making use of that term ever since the noble's adverse reaction to it, the Kuchiki clenched his jaw hard as to forcibly contain himself and not react to the jibe.

Degraded and exhausted, the noble gritted his teeth and gulped hard yet inaudibly, as if trying to swallow down his pride, which was seemingly shattering away fast as these days flew by...

Byakuya eventually chose - _forced_ himself - not to answer the other, instead keeping his eyes away, utterly incapable of making eye-contact with the blonde. And, this was not simply due out of mere resentment and disgrace.

There was something...wrong with Jugo's eyes. Byakuya had noticed this earlier, but didn't - or rather couldn't - really think much of it. Now, however, he was quite wary.

One look right in the blonde's cold-blooded green eyes and it was impossible to _think_ about looking away. Or, in all honesty, think clearly about _anything_ else at all.

Unless the Twilight himself redirected his gaze on his own terms - which he was currently doing as he addressed his fellow Twilights - there was no way to escape it. It was like being caged in, locked. And it was incredibly disconcerting.

As grey dimmed eyes wandered, the Kuchiki glimpsed at the bed, and it only occurred to him at this moment that the Shinigami Substitute had actually gone silent for quite a while now.

Swift to avoid drawing any unwanted attention to the other, Byakuya hastily lowered his gaze to the ground in front of him, black hair curtaining his face, before, out of the very corner of his eye, he hesitantly, discreetly chanced a sideways glance over to where the teenager laid, to check if the latter was doing any better than he was - well, apart from the obvious.

Head buried within the pillows, hiding himself from whoever would see, Ichigo was shaking. And the dark-haired noble was instantly concerned.

Was the young male alright?

None of the Twilights had approached him yet. So maybe, the teen was simply dreading when the trio would head over to him next? That was probably it. And rather understandable.

Struggling to reign his whirling emotions in, the dark-haired noble watched warily, instantly on high alert as the blonde Twilight suddenly shifted in his seat, inching a tad closer. And for one horrifying moment, Byakuya, rigid with anxious reluctance, thought that it would now be Jugo's turn to shove his manhood in his mouth.

But, by some miracle, it wasn't the case. Because rather than move to unbuckle his trousers and then unzip them, the blonde male smoothly stood back up instead, his hand still fastened tightly within the Kuchiki's collar, hence pulling the latter along awkwardly to his feet.

Bringing the face of the shinigami captain dreadfully near to his own, the blonde male tilted his head faintly, an eyebrow arched up tauntingly as he lazily drawled out with sheer malice: "Let's go and check on poor Hero-chii, shall we?"

Aghast, Byakuya precipitously wished that his former bout of dread would come true instead.

' _No!_ _ **Don't**_ _do to him what you've done to me. Leave him be,'_ he wanted to shout aloud, but his voice failed him, his mouth going dry with horror.

The Kuchiki felt as if someone had shot him. ...Jugo had _seen_ him look in the teen's direction.

Smirking straight in the noble's tensed face, Jugo's coldblooded serpentine green eyes never left the other despite him coolly addressing the other Twilights: "Bazz. Kandu. Head start?"

"Of course," accepted the dark-haired Twilight with a nod as he easily directed himself over to bed where the teenager laid still, no longer shaking, but turned into stone instead.

"Sure," agreed the redhead nonchalantly with a half-shrug, throwing a nasty, spiteful glance at the Kuchiki right before joining Kandu "Bet kiddo there's been feeling oh-so lonesome, while the attention was all on his mighty highness here."

Petrified deep to the bone as he heard them approach, Ichigo inwardly screamed, a very brief, fleeting thought crossing his mind, one that he didn't - just couldn't - register until long after.

In that moment, as odd and spontaneous as it was, the teenager had decided there and then that he'd _never_ feel comfortable under anyone's touch...other than Grimmjow's or Byakuya's.

Given what he had just been through at the ruthless, vicious hands of the Twilights, Byakuya, sincerely concerned for the young male's sake, parted his lips to somehow speak against this turn in events, but a light, yet severely reprimanding tap to his mouth was swift to stop him.

"I revoke your permission to speak, candy boy. Not _a_ word," uttered Jugo lazily, his normally deadened eyes alive with wry, wicked excitement "Or I won't hesitate to gag you. Point in fact, it'll be a _pleasure_ for me to do so. Just give me a reason, I beg you."

Still troubled over Ichigo's wellbeing, particularly upon hearing - as, due to Jugo blocking the view, he was now unable to see the teen - the Shinigami Substitute abruptly let out an alarmed yelp, Byakuya dared do nothing more but throw a _very_ nasty glare towards the blonde male, but pliably kept quiet. Because, honestly, the dark-haired noble suffering for his own actions was one thing...but dragging along the young male would only be a stinging bite to his mores.

Smirking broadly with smug and elated satisfaction, Jugo reached out and fisted a hand within the Kuchiki's long, dark locks, twisting them in a cruel hold before tugging sharply, forcing the other to shadow the blonde's step as the latter dragged him over to the bed, via the leash too - holding it wrapped around his other hand.

And for many reasons, despite him hissing out sharply at the mistreatment, Byakuya didn't resist this time. Not even once.

Flinging the shinigami down hard on the mattress, without any charity or consideration, the blonde Twilight then swiftly straddled the 6th Division's captain, pinning the latter - down on to his side - with Jugo using all his weight, his knees on each side of the noble's thighs.

With one hand firmly clasping at the nape of the shinigami's tense neck, Jugo leisurely raised the other hand to his lips, before he languidly ran his tongue over his fingers, sparsely coating them with saliva, all while locking sadistically animated eyes with the other Twilights - both who smirked in turn as their hands invasively explored and felt the young male's rigid frame.

Jugo was not by any means a caring lover or, heavens forbid, a tender lover, and that not even with his fellow Twilights - who, in truth, were just like him, fearlessly capable of sadism with anyone and enjoying _every_ single minute of it - which was one of the main reasons Suzuki-sama had often asked of them to conduct the trainings of any the new, unexperienced dolls. The harsher the training, the more they could endure whatever the patrons would dish out.

So, the blonde male knew _exactly_ how to truly make another feel fully powerless and pathetic. His touches were deliberate, terrifying to some extent, as he slowly took control of his prey's body, bending it to his will and displaying their most innermost secrets - which were perhaps even unknown to the receivers themselves. And that simply with a couple of restraints, a few good kicks here and there, and an appallingly decadent and immoral abuse of sexual intimacy.

Hence, without any prelude, Jugo reached down between the noble's bottommost cheeks, his not so slickened fingers locating the opening, before he jabbed them right in, pushing against resistance, sharp nails slitting the sensitivity of the tight inner walls as he pressed in, hard.

Barely able to stifle a scream, Byakuya bit his lip, snapping his eyes shut and squirming away a little from the unwelcome invasion...and unwanted resurfacing memories so similar to this situation. But, his fruitless struggle only served to amuse the unrelenting blonde male further.

"Breaking you, will be _truly_ gratifying, Zakura," breathed out Jugo, drinking in the wondrous sight of the Kuchiki's distressed features "And, just so we're clear, I _will_. Hurt you. Amidst, alas, the pleasure I have to make you acquire. However, I can _always_ do _worse_ than what I'll otherwise make you endure. Just provoke me - any of us - again, candy boy, and I'll prove it."

And, by now, by taking in what the Twilights were capable of, Byakuya _really_ believed him...

Slightly relaxing as the blonde Twilight retrieved his fingers, the shinigami captain instantly tensed again as he felt something far bigger and stiffer press up against his entrance, and then gradually _push in_.

As the noble choked on his breath to keep himself from letting any more sounds escape him, Jugo, with excruciating slowness, drove the pink dildo in deep, twisting it maliciously every now and then as he made it do a back-and-forth motion. Over and over again. _Relentless_.

Amidst the unkind haze of pain and growing abhorrent stint of pleasure, the shinigami's gaze somehow fell upon the teen - not noticing until now how near they were, a mere breath away - prior to finding himself briefly cut off from what he was going through, as he froze, shocked.

Those brown wide, vividly alert and terrified eyes were bloodshot, more so than his own, with wet tear streaks trailing down across the teen's cheeks. ...Ichigo had _cried_. And the tears were not fresh, having visibly been out in the open for a while now. And the noble had a worrying - and yet terribly accurate - hunch as to _when_ they had first fallen, selfless as the teenager was.

As absurd and unseemly as it sounded, he honestly wished Ichigo hadn't done that, not on his behalf. He didn't need - didn't deserve - the young male's sympathy. It only served to make Byakuya's own suffering more intolerable...and also make his once obdurate resistance thin further, for he was now even further over the very verge of collapsing into a million of pieces.

Skittish and uneasy under Bazz and Kandu's invasive touches - one of them tracing his body, the other working it against him via the still embedded dildo - as well as vividly aware of the array of ruinously colliding emotions within those dark grey eyes, Ichigo tried to speak up, his voice hoarse and breathless, unrecognizable even to himself: "W-Why are you doing this?"

While Bazz barked out in scathing laughter and Kandu smirked derisively, it was Jugo who responded to the teenager's query, a blonde eyebrow arched with amusement: "You ask _why_? You _know_ well why, boy. This is what Suzuki-sama wants you to be, to be reduced to. And I told you already, Hero-chii. His orders. Are. _Absolute_."

Shaking his head as best as he possibly could, the Shinigami Substitute desperately attempted to make himself heard: "I- I didn't mean tha- _Ah_. Why d-do you - _ugh_ \- hate us?"

Incredibly in synch, all three Twilights paused in their movements, disconcerted and baffled: " _Huh_?"

Trying to catch his breath now that he wasn't being worked towards unsolicited pleasure, the young male panted out softly, yet his words came out rather shrewdly: "You're not just acting on Ai- Suzuki-sama's orders. You really, genuinely hate us."

Ichigo, pragmatically, didn't want to say it was _just_ Byakuya. Nonetheless, incredibly sharp as always Jugo seemed to pick up on that bit, so he went on and decided to humour the other.

"Yeah. We do," replied the blonde male tersely, his voice of a deadly calm, before he casually returned to tormenting the Kuchiki, the oppression harsher than prior "But it's not that simple, little hero. And it doesn't matter. Just hate us like we hate you, that's it. There's nothing easier than hatred. You can hate the world, anyone, everyone, yourself... And if others hate you in return, all the better! Your hatred will have even _more_ meaning!"

For some startling reason, Jugo was becoming livid - whether it was due to him replying to the teen or to the words in themselves, it was unclear - which led his doings to grow even _more_ violent, and, despite having forced himself to be quiet, the noble really couldn't help the sound that escaped his lips, an agonized noise somewhere between a curt yell and a loud yelp.

"Stop!" cried out the teenager in alarm, horrified by the amount of lurid pain the Kuchiki must be in for it to distort his features in such a horrible manner "You're hurting him! _STOP_ IT!"

But the blonde Twilight didn't hear the Shinigami Substitute.

"You can hate freely, without restraint! No control! And have no regrets...for being such a horrible, hateful monster...devoid of _all_ reason."

"Jay, baby. Calm down."

Bazz, however, the blonde male heard perfectly well.

The blonde male paused pointedly, blinking. Huh. He wasn't used to losing control so easily...

Slowly calming from his venomous high, Jugo steeled his expression fully - by lessening its level of fierceness by a couple notches - a thin eyebrow arched: "I think you got the picture."

As the aggression receded and allowed the noble to breathe a little, the teen, rigid, regarded the Twilight with an undecipherable air, before he managed to utter in a whisper: "You-"

"What?" snapped the blonde male with a sneer, green eyes a red-hot poison that threatened to lash out again if triggered, no matter the reason "Hate us _already_ , little hero?"

" _Hate_ you?" echoed the young male gently, his authentic surprise at the assumption totally taking Jugo aback "...How could I? You're not simply depraved. You're also _deranged_. No, I can't hate you. I just feel _really_ sorry for you."

At that, the teen instantly received a stinging slap across his face, but he'd been expecting it, so Ichigo didn't even flinch, merely keeping his gaze steadily upon Jugo's incensed yet ashen features. Even the other two Twilights had stilled and were looking down at him with tension.

" _Don't_ ," hissed out the blonde quietly, menacingly, his stony green even frostier, lips thinned.

None of the Twilights ever wanted to hear _that_ truth. _Never_. And for it to come from a child...

Given that the blonde Twilight was focused elsewhere, the Kuchiki noble was lucid enough to be staring at the teen with amazed bewilderment, because it genuinely seemed like the latter had meant every word. And personally, the 6th Division's captain really couldn't comprehend _how_ 'hatred' was not at all part of the young male's standard vocabulary. ...How _did_ he do it?

Now icier and further vindictive since this had all began, Jugo flipped at his long, pale blonde hair as he enunciated lethally, his tone chilling: "Well then. Shall we move along, boys?"

Shuddering, the downright debased and horrified Byakuya, suddenly, had a spontaneous and unexpected wish that he'd somehow fall into a coma - or the like - soon. Because, if _this_ what he was to be subjected to under the Twilights, what on earth would it be like with the patrons?

One glance in front of him at those wide brown eyes jam-packed to the very brim with a deep-seated apprehension, quietly let Byakuya know that he wasn't alone to think along those lines.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

About to vividly retaliate in any way he could to avoid being shot, the former Espada's whole being then froze when something indistinct abruptly flew blurredly passed in front of his face, just before something else brutally jabbed right in the stout man's chest, piercing it through, the sound of flesh being punctured, ripped, and then blood nauseatingly being spilled.

Stunned still, the feline could only stare at the gaping gash, dripping and spurting with bright reddish fluid...only, the cause of the terrible wound was no blade nor any weapon of the like.

It was an arm, in full length, dipped in deep, up until the very elbow. But this arm, was not _human_.

Widened blue eyes gradually traced the limb back up to where it originated, only to find that it belonged to one of those faceless corpses that had been lying inert and in detached pieces. But what was really disturbing to witness, was that the body had _yet_ to fully assemble, the missing parts following close behind, floating eerily in the air with a ghastly rattling noise **(10)**.

No head upon the torso, no lower half adjoined to the only leg that was already there, one full arm as a weapon, and solely one hand as a shield, having deflected the bullet meant for the feline's head - and as it was deflected, it went directly through the head of one of the young armed men at the back, his body crumpling dead to the ground...

As the arm swiftly withdrew with a sick, squelchy noise from dying Majima's chest, letting him fall, the hovering head - which should have, by now, combined with the corpse protecting the blue-haired male - suddenly flew past the scared panicking lanky man, like a cannonball.

As it went, it then split in half and sprouted horrifying jagged broken glass-like teeth, before cruelly sinking them in, deep in the second armed man's throat, and then vividly tearing it out.

Stray bullets flew around and all over the place as the youth gagged, chocking on his own blood, before he became the third to fall, convulsing horridly, and then no longer moving.

And all this occurred, in but a fraction of freaking seconds...

" _What_ is going on?!" shrieked Fukaku in full alarm, glancing around in terror, his features just as fearful as they had been earlier, only far more ashen, before he then stared at the motionless magenta-haired girl as he stuttered frightfully "G- Gamine-chan? Wha- What _are_ you-? ...D- did _you_ -?"

As Grimmjow attempted to look over his shoulder, he immediately stilled again, going rigid as the hand that had protected him earlier swiftly shifted, moving over his eyes, rendering him blind to his surroundings.

The feline might not be the wisest of individuals, yet he didn't think once about resisting. And a good thing he didn't too.

Had Grimmjow turned around, he would have been witness to the chilling, inhuman eeriness now portrayed by Doll, her pigtailed hair thrashing around wildly with each strand undulating, like vines coming to life.

Devoid of all ounce of normalcy, along with a vivacious black and dark red aura in gradual growth around her being, Doll's obscured features were in a frozen-like state, a smile broke wide across her face, stretched athwart in a broad Cheshire-like grin that reached her ears. There was no mirth to her lips, but rather a vindictive, wild violence _begging_ to be put to use.

Apart from her sinister smile being visible, her right eye was glowing a ghoulish and ominous crimson colour, the pupil overtaken completely by the blinding, gleaming redness of the iris.

Her features - or rather the lacking visibility of them - portrayed an ethereal, eerie impression beyond fury or insanity. It was downright evil.

Hands clasped in front of her sweetly and head tilted coyly to the side - the natural appeal of both gestures in no way matching anything else about her at the moment - the magenta-haired girl spoke up, her voice soft but strange, her plain words coming out with extreme slowness: "How could I? Aren't I but a doll?"

"W- Wait, G-Gamine-chan. Your m-master and my b-boss have an accord! You can't-!"

A series of rapid shots abruptly rang out, cutting off Fukaku, with blood gushing past his lips, eyes blown open, unable to tell what hit him, before he too fell to the floor, face first in blood.

Unable to see, the former Espada carefully, hesitantly made use of his other available senses, his acute hearing and enhanced scent mostly coming into play.

And, throughout whatever had just transpired, he had efficiently picked up many sounds and smells, but some of them were either totally illogical, or left too much to imagination.

Gusts of violent, icy winds in a closed space. The sound of electrical bursts. Cracking noises. Crunching sounds and torn flesh. The stench of... _something_ burning. That last bizarre one not only didn't make any sense to the feline, but also made him exceedingly uncomfortable.

Another odd thing was, after the tall, lanky man had apparently been killed off, two additional thuds - bodies, probably - followed. ...But, that didn't add up. Everyone else had died _before_. One more thing. ... _Who_ fired those last series of shots exactly?

As these questions began taking a dimmer turn, the faceless - or rather, in this case, headless - body surrounding Grimmjow suddenly collapsed loudly and lifelessly to the floor, as though the spooky strings that had been holding it up had briskly been cut.

Currently able to see again, the disorientated feline warily looked around, his blue eyes going wide, before they narrowed as he inquisitively, quizzically inspected the scene in front of him.

The four men were effectively dead, bathing gruesomely in their own blood. They had been killed off messily and tactlessly, like a child just had a tantrum and lashed out at the world. And, apart from that, nothing else seemed out of order.

Now _that_ , was very, very much disturbing. _Everything_ else was intact? ...With all Grimmjow had overheard? No one else harmed? Not even those hollow-like children?

Speaking of the children, it was rather noteworthy to point out that, that they were _still_ in the _same_ position as they had been earlier - as though not at all concerned or disconcerted by this whole uncanny, ghastly and enigmatic ordeal that had occurred but moments before.

...The feline didn't know what to the think anymore.

"I don't care," uttered the girl sharply all of a sudden, startling Grimmjow and leading him to glance at her, seeing that she too appeared totally and utterly normal - apart from an obscure, hooded glint in her eyes - as she carried on speaking, in fact seemingly to be replying to the last words breathed by Fukaku "That's something the Master can deal with on his own, like a big boy. Besides, I really, _really_ can't stand anything that nihilistic pig boss of yours does."

That odd glint in her eye darkened for a fraction of seconds, before it was then entirely gone...

Features now blank again, Doll, unperturbed by the sight of death before her, reached into her jeans' pocket to retrieve a mobile phone. Dialling in swiftly, she flipped it onto speaker and, as whoever on the other side picked up, she spoke evenly: "You're needed down in the crypt."

As she hung up after that and stood waiting, the former Arrancar was stunned speechless, not sure what he was to be the most shaken and shocked about.

The children with their deadened eyes. Him losing every ounce of his control and going on a mindless rampage. The faceless, lifeless doll parts moving on their own. The now dead bunch being killed off so mystifyingly. Or the magenta-haired girl herself, detached and unfeeling.

Granted, he was used to the gore and gruesome. It was a circadian routine back in the Hueco Mundo after all. However, _that_ was something he knew, understood.

But _here_ , lost somewhere in the Human World, where was _this_ normal? Natural?

 _Débauche_ belonged to Aizen Sosuke. That much was pretty clear. The immortal was a Child of _Lust_ , harvesting others' darkest and deepest desires into power. But what the hell did the world upstairs had to do with the one hidden down here? Better yet, _why_ was _he_ brought to be an eyewitness to this in the first place?

Whereas the blue-haired tried to wrap his reeling mind around what he had been a bystander to, a steady sound of footsteps resounded as someone drew nearer to the scene, revealing it to be another one of those bulky men in suits - all very similar and yet distinctively different.

"How may I be of service, Doll-dana?" he voiced deferentially, bowing low, his words quick to draw the feline's wide stare.

Ah. There it was. Doll. Her name - tag most likely - was Doll.

Call it catlike curiosity, but Grimmjow, despite the strong sense of deadliness instilled by this girl, was further intrigued by the minute. She appeared to have as many secrets as this place...

"Dispose of the bodies," ordered Doll, right after she had acknowledged the other, gesturing disinterestedly to where the four men laid.

"Of course, Doll-dana. And what of them?"

Features not giving anything away, she closed her eyes for a second as she let out a deep sigh.

He was talking about the children.

"Alas, no loose ends can be afforded in this messed up line of work," muttered the girl bitterly under her breath, before raising her voice to address the ones currently concerned "All of you, children tainted by the cruel darkness of chaos. I'll give you two options. One, you work for the Master of these grounds, until he decides that you have outlived your purpose. Two, you die free, here and now. Lift your hand for option one. Don't, for option two."

None of them raised their hands. And it was impossible to tell if it's because they were readily willing to die, or they were too far gone to even register what she had said. However, there _was_ the thinnest of shifts in some of their faces, which looked very much like gratitude.

But the magenta-haired girl didn't react to that in the slightest, remaining utterly apathetic as she spoke to the bulk of a man instead, her voice a soft, emotionless whisper: "Make it swift."

"Yes, Doll-dana."

As the man dressed in the black suit again bowed low to her, the girl started to make her way back over to the flight of stairs, before stopping in her tracks and glancing over her shoulder at the blue-haired feline, an eyebrow arched up high.

"Do you plan on spending the night here, Pantera? I highly recommend against that."

Snapping away from his mind's musings, Grimmjow nodded distractedly, before he moved to follow her wordlessly. But it was only halfway back up the stairs that he managed to organize his racing thoughts in order to ask her the nagging question he had yet an answer to: "All of that back there...was you, right? The deaths and stuff? How the freakin' hell did you do it?"

" _Me_?" exclaimed Doll, eyes wide as if his assumption was totally off and ludicrous, before she then stifled a giggle "Oh, darling, if I was able of doing half of what you're suggesting, I wouldn't be stuck here, believe me. You must be imagining things."

Furrowing his brow but keeping quiet, Grimmjow was _not_ fooled by her show of innocence. It had obviously - maybe? - been her doing. Who else could it have been?

He had clearly felt the murderous, killer intent swell up in the air and violently lash out, whilst he had been blind to his surroundings. The feline simply couldn't tell nor prove where it had come from, especially since, even with dulled senses, he didn't feel anything stem from _her_... Though she felt somewhat dangerous for some reason, Grimmjow sincerely couldn't feel _any_ power of any kind coming from her. ...Unless it was his senses that were completely off.

It was just that Doll displayed an incredibly elusive approach to the world around her, which was somewhat familiar to him. But then again, as it remained somewhat distinctive to her, the blue-haired male couldn't really pinpoint where he had faced it before.

In addition to that, she had just showed a level of power and control in this place that no one else seemed to have. Not even that witch Manter, even though they both seemed to be treated with reverence - as the difference was that the other always sought Aizen's permission first, while this one appeared to take substantial and significant decisions on her own. ...A _whole_ bunch of people were just casually _killed off_ without the go-ahead of the immortal, damn it.

In addition to all that, hadn't Leona said that, upon crossing paths with this very girl, she was ' _very, very important_ ' here?

Hence, it truly and strongly begged the question.

"What the fuckin' hell _are_ you, girl?" demanded the blue-haired, this time leading her to stop in her tracks and, after a minute of silence, Doll turned to him, smiling sweet with no emotion.

"I'll leave that up to your imagination, Pantera."

 _The secret side of me_

 _I'll never let you see_

 _I keep it caged, but I can't control it_

 _So stay away from me_

 _The beast is ugly_

 _I feel the rage, and I just can't hold it_

 _ **(Monster, by Brighter Than A Thousand Suns (Skillet Cover))**_

* * *

 **(1)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 6: _Countdown to Chaos (Part 3)_ , Scene 2 (A/N: scenes are separated by: **In the Sereitei/Karakura Town** , **Back to**...etc; or by this: 0000000).

 **(2)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 9: _Taking It In_ , Scene 1.

 **(3)** 'Blood Bank Shell's _X_ ' is in fact a reference to a BL called _Blood Bank_ , with Shell being one of the main characters. The line in itself is a very catchy sentence that one of my friends uses to describe _ANYTHING_ that reminds her of Shell, replacing the ' _X_ ' with whatever it is that she's comparing. Like a 'Blood Bank Shell's _dye'_ or a 'Blood Bank Shell's _eagerness'_. ...It's complicated, I know. Most of my friends are. That's why we're friends! The BL in itself is a lot less complicated, but rather hard-core, if you're interested. It's a love story between a vampire (Shell) and a human, with an incredible twist. _Really_ recommended.

 **(4)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Prologue (Part 2): _The Traitor's Trial_ , Scene 11.

 **(5)** For the crowd in the hall, I was imagining a scene that was between the Ball of this 1986 movie called _the_ _Labyrinth_ , and the Ball at beginning of _Hunger Games: Catching Fire_.

 **(6)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 9: _Taking It In_.

 **(7)** Another dildo, was I meant here, right? I'd like to think that Byakuya doesn't _know_ what it's _called_. Yet. I mean, we've never seen much of Byakuya in the Human World, whether in the manga or anime, so he can't know _that_ much. Apart from what Rukia might have babbled to him, like juice boxes. ...I think I need a scene like that here in this fic.

 **(8)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 5: _Unexpected Treachery Amidst (Part 2)_ , Scene 6; also, Chapter 7: _And They Fall_ , Scene 2; also, Chapter 8: _Fate for Spoils_ , Scene 5.

 **(9)** ...Mr Wile. Trust me, Mr Wile is as evil as the name suggests it... And I truly don't know what possessed me to include this character in this fic at all. ...Probably a result of watching too many- Nope, not giving anything away. Not yet. But I will tell you this. First off, Mr Wile is _**not**_ the character's real name (I'm literally giving _everyone_ aliases in this Part). Second, the character is an actual character from the Bleachverse. Last, Mr Wile is worse than Aizen. Yep, you heard me. I said ' _ **worse**_ than Aizen'. Don't believe me? Just wait and see...

 **(10)** I genuinely adore Anime/Manga. It really takes my breath away more often than not. However, there are also some instances that _freak the heck_ out of me. And as much as I enjoyed _the Naruto series_ , there are many things that have deprived me of sleep. One of them being the sound that the puppets make when they move. ...Shivers. That's the sound here btw.

 **(11)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 9: _Taking It In_ , Scene 1.

 **(12)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 7: _And They Fall_ , Scene 2.

* * *

A/N: So, I won't write down 'to be continued' since this chapter doesn't end here. Therefore, no, not a cliff-hanger. At least not _here_ (snickers). And I won't be delaying the following part of this chapter much. Just expect it next **Thursday** , on **October** **4** **th**. See you then! Bye!


	4. Part Two: Chapter 2 P2

**The Fallen Series (a Bleach Fanfiction) by Seth's Kiss:**

A/N: Hello, ladies, gents and everyone else! So, as stated in the previous update, this is the rest of Chapter 2! And I don't need to add anything to that, I think. Please enjoy!

Rating for this chapter: Exactly the same as the former one, since this _is_ still the 2nd chapter.

 **P.S:** You'll find that the **poll** for this fic is still open if you're willing to vote. You only need to check my profile and place a vote. I'll keep it open until Chapter 3 (next chapter), so please feel free to pick what could eventually be, somewhere, at some point, within the flow of this fic. If there is something else that you'd like to add that isn't featured in the poll, please send me a PM or leave a review.

 **Poll:** **What will you be willing to read in the upcoming chapters?**

* * *

 **Part Two: Dignity Falls:**

 **Chapter 2:** Under the Twilights (Part 2):

After leaving the basement behind like a bad nightmare, true to her word, the girl pulled the blue-haired male away from any likely patrons, as well as the events going down in the halls.

Making their way back through the main hall, she went straight over for the large entrance doors - passing by the front desk where Millie and Tora both stood instead of Leona - whereas Grimmjow had, carefully, glanced across the crowd, hoping to pick up on either of the other two, but it was in vain. The kid and the noble were nowhere in sight.

What he did get to observe however, was that as they went by the crowd of people, those who noticed the magenta-haired girl, instantly dipped their heads towards her in elegant reverence. She would respond with a polite nod of her own, but kept her features entirely expressionless, not a smile to her lips, not a single blink of her large eyes. She truly did uphold her namesake.

As they both stepped out into the cool, thinly fogged air of the night and descended the front stairs, she then sat down on the very last step and closed her eyes, breathing in and out deeply.

Slowly sitting down also, the former Espada glanced at the quiet girl, her features blank and giving nothing away, before then looking out at the calm scenery in front of him, mind reeling due to recent events and so many questions - and one of them was sitting right next to him.

Besides what he had already perceived in regards to her mysterious and mystifying attributes, it was truly amazing how this girl could flit so quickly and easily between two very different faces. Truth to be told, it was as if she made it so that everyone and all saw _only_ two sides to her. An incredibly sweet and endearing side, filled with courteous civility - depending on the person. And an impassive apathy, with a chilling detachment and deadly insensitivity to her demeanour - again, depending on the person. She'd even resort to flitting between both sides on some occasions - yet again, _depending_ on the person.

She acted like she had nothing else but those two. And the former Arrancar couldn't quite tell which one _really_ reflected who - or what - she was, even though he definitely had a feeling that the first one was the faked behaviour. He might be entirely wrong, but he'd undeniably be thinking that. At least, for now...

Because in all honesty, what Grimmjow really needed to focus on, was how to get out of here-

"Don't bother," cautioned the magenta-haired girl casually, her eyes closed shut as she rubbed her fingers to her temples in slow circles "Once a person - turned into a doll - sets foot on these grounds, they can't ever leave. Trust me, don't try. You'll regret it."

"...Are you a fuckin' mind reader?"

The ghost of an amused smile touched her lips: "Nope. Very little of that for me, thanks. I'm just that good at telling what a person's thinking about."

Indeed, the former Espada had been glancing over the grounds before staring at the gates ahead, trying to figure a way out. And now, he felt quite deterred.

Not because of the warning in itself, but how she had said it. With no infliction in her tone, no emotions to her features, uttering her words like stating an irrefutable fact: 'it was _impossible_.'

Well, damn. There goes that.

"Could you please open this for me?" she asked all of a sudden, handing out a large bottle of liquor to him, a distant expression to her features "I don't even have quarter of the strength you surely have."

In addition to the bottle, the girl was also loosely holding, in her other hand, two wine glasses.

Grimmjow merely stared, eyes wide with disbelief. ...She did _not_ have all that minutes before.

Did she just conjure them out of thin air? ...Was she a witch?

"Where the fuck did you get that?" he asked, his tone just as surprised as his expression, yet reaching out all the same to open it for her, the cap coming off with a pop after a blunt twist.

"On our way out," she replied smoothly with a pleasant smile "One of the patrons gave it to me. Some of them can be generous like that. Well, less times than most."

"...The _hell_?! You didn't fuckin' have _anything_ when we stepped out here," argued the former Arrancar, quite positive that - as sharp-eyed as he was - he would have noticed something like that taking place. _No one_ had approached them or given her anything.

"Oh really?" she blinked, before she giggled musically, childishly, all while lightly chiding him "You mustn't have been paying attention then. Silly Pantera."

Vivid blue eyes narrowed guardedly.

There she was, doing it again. Acting as if he was _totally_ out of it. It was quite convincing, giving that she seemed so much like a child. Innocent.

And so, he'd _almost_ believe her... _If_ he wasn't completely stubborn and confident of what he saw - or rather, in this case, didn't see.

"Cut the bullshit, girlie. I'm _not_ fuckin' buying it."

At that, her mask of sugariness swiftly vanished to leave room for her mask of indifference, a single eyebrow raising upwards as she regarded him: "...Are you calling me a liar, Pantera?"

"The bloody hell if I know. As far as I'm aware, everyone fuckin' lies when it's convenient for them," stated Grimmjow knowingly, as he hurriedly handed the bottle back to her, eyes averted as a slight chill ran through him.

...Shoot. She was _not_ someone to mess with.

"Unless it's fuckin' something that they inherently _can't_ do. Like, they can't bloody lie even if they wanted to. ...Or something."

Doll's eyes widened faintly. She knew exactly who he was talking about. But she was really stunned that he _knew_ this about Sosuke, and she had to wonder why and how the feline knew.

The inability to lie was indeed an inherent trait, one exclusively all the Children of Lust - the Aizen - were cursed to endure. Well, there was also allegedly another inability...one that irked her to no end.

"Huh," uttered the girl after a moment, an enigmatic shine in her eyes, before it was gone the next second as she then politely held out the second glass towards him "Want some?"

"No, thanks," declined the feline, to which she merely nodded, right before placing the bottle and the other glass down between them, in case he changed his mind.

After having poured some for herself, she quietly began savouring her drink with measured sips, before abruptly letting out a heavy sigh.

"I need a break," she voiced tiredly, as she closed her eyes yet again "I _desperately_ need one."

The feline wordlessly raised his eyebrows at that. Was she going to start a therapy session, with him as an improv-shrink?

Noting that the girl had purposely and smoothly changed the conversation but deciding not to mention it, the blue-haired male suggested nonchalantly: "Why not take one then?"

"It's not that easy," pouted Doll complainingly, as she promptly dropped her forehead to her knees, hair trailing along, while perfectly holding out her glass in front of her with both hands.

"Not if _you're_ the one making it fuckin' complicated," he mentioned offhandedly, causing her giggle lightly in a soft pitch that held no mirth.

"Oh, I _wish_ it were that simple," she uttered without intonation, as she languorously sat back up and daintily set her chin upon a propped up hand, her nebulous gaze completely elsewhere.

They both simply remained like that for a moment in silence, lost in their respective thoughts, before she spoke up again: "Well, a promise is a promise. Since you did help me out, what can I do for you? Don't push it and ask for the impossible though."

If his ears weren't playing tricks on him, he would've sworn he heard a stutter in her caution, somewhere along one of the letter 'p's she had uttered, dragging them out a little longer.

He hadn't really been paying close attention, but Grimmjow did suppose that the petite doll-like girl was at her sixth glass by now. Or was it the seventh? Probably even more than that. He wasn't too sure. ...Nor could he tell with the bottle still, bizarrely enough, looking rather full.

But, that was beside the point.

Right now, Grimmjow could definitely seize this as a golden opportunity to seek the answers he and the other two desperately and badly needed to get through with _Débauche_ 's intricacies. And by playing it smooth and subtle, he'd probably even be able to fish out any details that might be helpful, in time, should they try to recover their freedom. However, before that could happen, knowing about this place in every single aspect of it - since, allegedly there was no way to leave, there had to be another way out - was definitely a must.

There was a slight problem, however. Given what he had seen and heard so far in regards to this girl, led to assume that she was possibly devoted and dedicated to Aizen, like everyone else within _Débauche_ 's walls. So, would she _actually_ answer if he asked? Well, it was worth a try.

"Answer a few questions of mine. Mostly about this fuckin' place," he disclosed, deciding to be halfway honest for now, before he sceptically raised eyebrow at her "Can you do that?"

"I guess I can _try_ ," drawled out Doll leisurely, the alcohol finally numbing at a certain part of her she desperately needed gone - one which wasn't her lucidity.

She then uttered knowingly, an eyebrow arched up high in private amusement: "The other dolls giving you the cold shoulder, aren't they?"

"Unlike someone," noted the feline, before sneering mordantly "What fuckin' gave it away?"

"They're often like that. I'm not. Not _all_ the time anyhow," shared the girl with an odd glimmer in her large doll-like eyes, before shrugging dismissively "Don't mind them."

"Have no fuckin' intention to," scoffed the former Espada, before he inquired upon one of the first things that he had yet to figure out "What the fuck's a fuckin' Mingle Night?"

At that, Doll honestly couldn't hold back the genuinely amused look that crossed her features. She might be getting drunker than she had intended. Oh, what the hell.

" _That's_ your first question? Wait, isn't that tonight?" she asked lightly, forcing herself to not laugh, while he nodded "Well, each day of the month here is different. In aspect mostly, because in depth, it's all the same really."

"No fuckin' kidding."

Inwardly entertained by the other's cynicism, Doll then pursed her lips thoughtfully, trying to find a simple and clear-cut way to answer the feline's question: "On Mingle Nights, all you have to do truly is walk around, looking pretty. And when you catch someone's eye - and fit their fancy, fantasy or whatever after a nice talk - you go off with them to one of those rooms - you know, the ones from the halls. You'll get a key from our dear Leona - or whoever else is at the front desk - and then give them the time - night - of their lives. It is important to know though that these are one of the _only_ nights where you can refuse someone. It is _best_ not to. But if they put you off with their demands or quirks, you're allowed to say no."

Letting what he had just been told sink in, the blue-haired male remained composed but - on the inside - perked up at that last bit, instantly viewing it as an advantage for the other two: "You don't fuckin say? Huh."

"You don't look _too_ hyped by this. Don't you care?" she inquired upon seeing the other's utter passivity on this matter. She wasn't really expecting for him to jump with joy, but still...

"I'll take things as they are. And really, I just don't give a fuck. At least, not when it comes to me," he expressed unfeelingly, but with absolute honesty, shrugging yet again.

' _He and you have quite a lot in common,'_ had shared Sosuke when he had told her about the three new additions to his dollhouse, detailing each one of them for her so she'd know what to expect _'Indifference is one of them'_.

Seemingly so. His impassiveness was indeed something she could relate to and understand. But it remained rather distinct from her own. There was something there, unknown, unseen, but capable of saving him. She, on the other hand, was too far gone to be saved...

"Apparently, you don't," she observed, sharply casting away her dark and negative thinking, before she then raised an eyebrow at him inquisitively "But, _w_ _hy_ are you asking then?"

"For reasons," uttered Grimmjow plainly, before glancing at her with stern tenacity when she stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

When he didn't, she smiled wide with that artificial amiability of hers, nodding approvingly: "You're distrustful. That's certainly a great trait to have here in _Débauche_."

Despite downing down glass after glass, the girl did sound quite lucid, but with erratic stutters in her more outspoken speech, and a dark flush to her much more expressive features, it was quite easy to point out to her current state.

And the former Espada would have normally felt a little guilty for taking advantage of a drunk, but he wasn't sure if he could see this girl as an ally or not. Therefore, until he could determine that, he'll drown down his culpability for now.

"What else can you tell me? About this fuckin' shithole of a place?"

Grimmjow wasn't too sure, but he thought he caught her eyes flash briefly in what looked like displeasure, most likely at something he had said. ...What _had_ he said? That this place was a- Well, _yeah_ , it was. Why would that bother her?

"Well, the first you should know, is that _nothing_ is for free," she cited casually as she glanced away, grimacing due to herself quoting Sosuke - which she blamed _entirely_ on the alcohol, by the way - before she twirled a hand idly through the length of her pigtailed hair "If you want to know more, you'll have to do things for me. Do this, do that, you know. Stuff like that. ...So?"

As she eyed him patiently, expectantly, the blue-haired male merely frowned, rather cautious.

He wasn't overly fond of another having a hold, an advantage over him, no matter the reason. And yet, this was a too good an opportunity to pass. He'd just have to tread _VERY_ prudently.

"Whatever," Grimmjow nodded slowly, attempting to appear nonchalant about it, before he was swift to add consistently "But if it's too fuckin' weird, I reserve the right to refuse."

"Fair enough," conceded Doll quite easily, surprising the other "I'll do you a favour then. For every time you give me a hand, I'll tell you one thing about the patrons and one thing about _Débauche_ in itself. How's that?"

' _But fuckin'_ _ **nothing**_ _about the dolls, or you, or 'Suzuki-sama', right?'_ observed the former Arrancar shrewdly, but acquiesced to her bargain anyways. Anything was better than nothing.

"So, you want to know the dark and murky details of this forsaken hellhole?" she hiccupped, quickly apologizing for it, before she then giggled drunkenly "You're in for a _hell_ of a ride."

As she began her narrating, unreserved drunkenness letting her tongue run loose, the feline frankly wished he could have taken his question back.

Since it was too late, and he was in urgent need for answers - and this, not just for himself as he wasn't alone in this affair - he decided to bear it, eventually holding out the glass she had offered him earlier.

But, unlike her gradual inebriated state, no matter how many drinks he downed, not one single drop was making _him_ tipsy - in hopes of making what he was hearing easier... And heavens knew he drank, the bottle of liquor filling back up every time it was empty.

 **In Naruki City, the Asano flat.**

It was quiet. Very quiet. Peacefully quiet even. And yet, it was not truly a _comfortable_ silence.

In the living room, Keigo was so concentrated on valiantly battling with his homework, that he was oblivious to the tension hanging in the air between his sister - who was tidying around - and their guests - Hallibel and three others, silently seated around him, lost in their thoughts.

The four, though mostly pensive, were also attempting to erase themselves from Mizuho's attention, but she was still glaring at them all the same, evidently irritated with their presence.

Keigo had pleaded with her to let them stay and, despite being _very_ against it, she eventually relented, letting her little brother take care of these strangers from a totally different universe.

Mizuho had to wonder, by following the aforementioned definition, if that made them aliens. The whole concept she had been presented with - as they had considerately explained to her who, if not _what_ , they were - would be _slightly_ more acceptable to her if that were the case.

Pushing away the loopy thought, she carried on to dust her way around the furniture whilst keeping a sharp, vigilant eye on their 'guests' - harbouring those distant, drained and defeated looks ever since they had set foot there - and she found herself recalling how it had all started.

 _Home early after a long day, Mizuho was happily relaxing and watching TV, when there was a sudden series of frantic knocking on the front door, startling her and instantly making her angry as she usually tended to be for absolutely everything._

 _Who_ _ **dared**_ _disturb her at this time? And here she was hooked onto a real good movie, damn!_

 _Charging like a bull for the door, she pried it upon with vehement violence, ready to bite the head off of whoever stood there at the entrance, no matter their excuse._

 _Upon seeing her brother, her senseless ill-temper only just escalated, not yet registering the oddity of Keigo knocking when he could have simply used his own set of keys._

" _KEI-GO! WHAT THE HELL IS ALL THE FREAKING RACKET FOR-?!"_

 _She then cut herself on her own upon fully taking in the scene unfolding right on the doorstep._

 _Along with an atypically serious expression to his strained, agitated features, her younger brother stood there, out in the cold, inimical air of the dying day, and he was not alone._

 _Surrounded by three women, Keigo was hunched over from trying, with great difficulty, to keep upright an apparently unconscious male, from toppling down to a heap on the ground._

 _With their eyes lowered, the three women beside her brother - one of them with the burden of helping the other two to hold up - were all very different from one another, but they all shared two common traits. One, they were all badly battered and terrible shape, as though they had just ran away from a fierce warzone. Two, they were barely dressed, clad in nothing but long, tattered t-shirts._

 _After staring blankly at the bizarre picture painted out before her, Mizuho then drawled out the first thing that popped up into her mind, in a complete deadpan tone: "I'll have you know, Asano Keigo, that you're still a couple years too young to go out clubbing. No matter how old your drinking buddies might be."_

 _Frantically shaking his head at his sister's absurd assumption, the teenager exclaimed vividly: "You got it all wrong! Please, sis, he - they -_ _ **need**_ _help!"_

 _Urgency in his voice prompting her to react before she could think any further, Mizuho swiftly swooped in to give her sibling a hand, before ushering the girls to follow and get in._

 _Closing the door behind them, she and her brother both carried the passed out male all the way in and laid him out on the sofa, the others following closely behind._

 _As the three females carefully lowered themselves to sit on the ground, the brown-haired teen dashed off to get some gauze, disinfectant and other medical-related supplies._

 _Rushing back, Keigo swiftly began tending to the quartet's wounds, whereas Mizuho sternly demanded to know exactly what was going._

 _Barely aware to meet the elder Asano's demands, they all left it up to one amongst them - a tall tanned blonde named Hallibel Tia - to explain their situation to Mizuho as best as she could._

 _And what the sister was told, was not at all, what she would have ever imagined or expected..._

" _So, wait, wait. Let me see if I get all this," voiced the eldest Asano in slow motion, frowning with a flustered expression as she struggled to make sense of what she had just heard "In a world parallel to ours, you - along with 'shinigami' -_ _ **exist**_ _. And by definition, they're the good guys and you the bad. But hello, face-heel-turn! A shinigami decided on breaking the habit and becoming a baddie, recruiting you along the way through manipulations. But then, there was an immense war between the two parties - one of them wanting to destroy Karakura and the other wanting to protect it. The latter won, with the big bad boss going to jail and his lackeys either dead or roaming free. Only no happy ending, because a third party interferes, screwing the whole thing up and reversing the situation in such a revolutionary manner, that the bad guys are now in full control. And you, who in the meantime had sided with the good guys to get revenge for what Mr. Bad Boss did to you - and to the 'Feline King' especially - ended up receiving one hell of a punishment for your actions. ...That it?"_

 _As everyone just blinked, the tanned blonde remained mute for a moment, which extended itself as if she was processing the other's words, before she acquiesced: "That's...one way to put it."_

" _Huh," uttered Keigo's sister numbly, unable to formulate anything else or think straight at the moment, whereas Keigo, all the while, had carefully did the best he could to patch up the wounded - which they courteously expressed their gratitude for._

 _Having eventually pulled away as they let the 'beings' rest a little, the siblings watched the four of them from a distance, with Mizuho frowning warily, uncertainly, before she shifted her focus onto her brother, her brow knitting further: "So? Anything you want to tell me?"_

" _Sure," accepted Keigo effortlessly, before he began pointing "Ok, um... That one over there is Hallibel-san. That one is Appacci and the other girl is Cirucci. And the guy's called Ggio."_

" _I didn't ask you for their_ _ **names**_ _, Keigo," she sighed, rolling her eyes before she narrowed them, curious and cautious, and very much concerned "How did you_ _ **even**_ _meet these guys?"_

" _Oh, right. To make it simple, they're friends of a friend of mine. And they...came to me for help. So, I helped them."_

" _Just like that?"_

" _Just like that," nodded the auburn-haired teenager, before he bit his lip hesitantly, fidgeting "So, um... Can they stay?"_

" _ **Keigo**_ _."_

" _Seriously,_ _ **please**_ _," implored the younger sibling, knowing exactly why she was reacting so negatively, but really not wanting her to, not this one time at least "Look, I'd_ _ **never**_ _ask you something like this, but- They_ _ **really**_ _have nowhere else to go."_

" _I don't know," muttered Mizuho with a deep, disgruntled frown, gaze straying off to the side._

" _Come on, sis. Let's be nice for a change. We can't just keep shutting out the world forever._ _ **Please**_ _. Pretty please?"_

 _Shoulders about to slump in defeat when he saw his sister remain firm, the younger Asano swiftly perked up when she then let out a jaded sigh, eventually surrendering: "...Ok,_ _ **fine**_ _."_

" _Thanks! I owe you," stated Keigo, smiling gratefully at his sister, using that childlike, boyish grin of his, making Mizuho inwardly melt, but she simply rolled her eyes at him and snorted..._

Such is how the small Asano family of two now had to deal these four freeloading lodgers. On the bright side, they were not a hassle, nor were they any trouble. They kept to themselves, helped with what they could and weren't that talkative or prying. Real wonders... Anyone else would have been a grateful host to such individuals.

But not Mizuho. She just didn't want them here. And her reason for wanting this, was not because they were complete strangers, or because they were, allegedly, 'not human'.

Like most of their classmates' non-existent, near-never-present or very useless parents, Keigo and Mizuho's parents were usually miles away on business, which lasted _long_ periods of time. So the elder sister had started, quite early, to take the role of a surrogate adult all on her own, downright refusing anyone - relative, neighbour or other - who'd try to lend the siblings a hand. She didn't need any help, she had told them. Everything was fine, she would say.

In young Mizuho's head, if it helped that avoiding people would allow her to not waste her time and feelings getting attached to someone - only for them to leave in the end - then it was all perfectly fine. It was narrow-minded and idiotic in general of her, but she just couldn't help it.

Glancing over again to where everyone was quietly sitting, she wondered when these strange beings had the intention of leaving...and just how her brother would react to their departure.

Scratching at his head in frustration, Keigo glared daggers at the sheet of paper in front of him, mentally cursing _whoever_ it was that had been horribly bored enough to have invented maths. Seriously, apart from the most basic form of calculations, what use _were_ they?

Did one truly need to know to the most complex of equations to buy groceries? Or to know about vectors and who-knows-the-heck-else to find one's way around the house or down the street? How about the Pythagorean Theorem? And trigonometry? Unless teachers were trying to make _EVERY_ single student an architect, an engineer or some high degree drama like that, what the hell did _anyone_ _else_ in life need _those_ for?

All of a sudden, quite abruptly, the brown-haired teen felt a cold, ominous sensation fall over him, sending unpleasant, chilling shivers down his spine and drawing sweat from his brow.

As the pen fell straight out of Keigo's hand with a thud, no one truly paid any mind as the teenager slowly, uneasily shifted his full attention away from his mathematics homework.

No one noticed...until he spoke up.

"Uh, guys?" called out the younger Asano sibling suddenly in a hushed, faltering tone, with his wide eyes riveted ahead, a twinge of escalating fear in them "C- Can bats be _that_ b-big?"

The five other occupants in the room all turned to catch a glimpse of what had made Keigo react in such a manner, and, instantly, four of them went stiff while the fifth gasped in horror.

Beyond the window, a figure enshrouded in shadows had just touched down onto the balcony, with rather large, wide devil-like wings extending grandly from its indistinct form.

Eyes narrowing, Hallibel and the other three stood up without delay, hands already upon their zanpaktou, while Keigo remained utterly petrified and Mizuho dropped the duster, her voice trembling greatly.

"Wha- What kind of monster _is_ that? A d-demon?"

"The Cuatro Espada," articulated Appacci edgily, correcting the other's statement despite it clarifying absolutely nothing for the terrified young woman.

A few tense seconds passed in complete stillness, before Hallibel then turned to lock serious, concerned eyes with their two hosts, her tone gentle but stern: "Asano junior and senior. Go by the door. If anything goes wrong, run. Run and don't look back."

Upon hearing those words, Keigo snapped out of his scared stiff trance, going into full alarm instead as he stared wide-eyed at the blonde, speaking in an apprehensive rush: "B-But-! You can't fight _that_ \- I know you can't tell anymore, so I'm telling you - it's too strong! And-!"

Abruptly cutting himself off, the brown-haired teen bit his lip and lowered his eyes, features tight and wistful: "And you'll die."

Touched by his concern, the former Tercero Espada reached out to place her steady hands on the teenager's shaking shoulders, wordlessly locking eyes with him.

Under her gentle, yet determined touch, Keigo felt safe, _knew_ he would be safe, but he sensed also that that safeness wouldn't be extended to anyone in this room beyond him and his sister.

Sacrifice...

As the brown-haired boy's lower lip trembled, Hallibel gave him a soft smile, before her firm expression returned to her features as she quietly addressed Keigo's sister: "Do as we say. Please promise us that."

Sensing the gravity of whatever this situation was, Mizuho nodded quickly, before grabbing her brother and, despite his protests, dragging him over to stand back by the front door.

Keeping a steady hold on him, she glanced at Hallibel and the others from over her shoulder, mind racing and still undecided whether opening her door to them had been a good thing or not.

Once the siblings were distanced far enough from the looming threat, the four then clustered together, standing close and strong as a protective barrier between the window and the door, before they held up their weapons at the ready.

...However, after a beat of nail-biting tension, the standstill had _yet_ to go anywhere, nobody moving a single muscle, apart from their hearts that were thudding agitatedly in their chests.

Among Aizen's former soldiers, Ggio was the most anxious. What made him this in particular was the fact that _none_ of them had sensed the Espada. _At all_.

Given recent circumstances, their spiritual awareness became near equivalent to naught, and if Keigo hadn't said anything, they probably would've never known. The worst thing in all this was that _a human_ currently had more spiritual awareness than them. Frightening...

" _Well_?" hissed Cirucci under her breath as she started to get impatient, the suffocating wait making her restless.

Totally misunderstanding the female's question, Ggio let out an uneasy, shuddering breath: "We'll never survive against him, especially not if he's in his Resurreción form."

"That's obvious," snorted Appacci scathingly, her tone derisive yet without a trace of humour "What's not obvious, is _why_ is he here? Aizen said if we disappeared, he'd let us be, right?"

Pretty eyes narrowing with blistering, unreserved loathing upon hearing the immortal's name, Cirucci's lips twisted into an ugly sneer: "Apparently, we haven't disappeared far enough."

"Something's odd though," intervened Hallibel suddenly, speaking softly as she scrupulously scrutinized the unmoving figure ahead, immobile since it had set foot down.

This caught the other three's attention, with Appacci inquiring: "Hallibel-sama?"

Emerald green eyes gliding over to those standing at her side, she slowly uttered her internal question for them to hear, leading them to also pause and consider: "Why isn't he attacking?"

"Maybe he's here for a reason other than killing us," suggested Ggio, frowning in thought, before he chuckled nervously and shook his head "But that's me being _way_ too optimistic."

Rather than reprimand him with an annoyed glare like Cirucci and Appacci, the blonde female actually seemed to contemplate this as a possibility, before she began to vigilantly make her way forward: "Let's find out."

Although Ggio and the two females appeared intensely against whatever idea had currently formed itself inside the tall, tanned female's head, they didn't stop her, warily watching as she staunchly walked over to the window, the dark figure behind it still there and motionless.

"Please be careful," whispered Keigo worriedly, quietly, but Hallibel didn't hear him, as she stepped out onto the balcony after prying the window open, before shutting it behind her.

Studying the darkened figure ahead - from which she could feel nothing, apart from a faint intimidating aura, only now - the blonde female knew, without doubt, that this was _definitely_ the Cuatro Espada. But she couldn't find any explanation as to why he had yet to make a move.

Unwilling to take any risks, Hallibel swiftly raised her sword and, without hesitance, whipped the blade forwards, leaving it but a breadth away from what should be the Espada's neck.

Again, after a long moment, nothing happened, before the dark-haired bat's vacant, impassive voice rose, finally addressing her: "Please tell me you aren't serious, Tia Hallibel."

"I am, Schiffer," she confirmed steadfastly in turn, maintaining her stance just as threatening.

"Be reasonable," admonished Ulquiorra evenly, placing his fingers lightly against her blade "You cannot possibly fight in your condition."

"Yet I will gladly sacrifice myself to protect the ones standing behind me," Hallibel resolutely declared, struggling to keep her weapon in place underneath the pressure applied by the other.

Due to their actual significant difference in strength, her hold didn't last and, in the very next seconds, her zanpaktou flew out of her hands and onto the floor, leaving her wide open.

After a daunting pause in time, the Cuatro merely took a single step forward - coming forth into the dim light - and spoke up again, a faint hint of wonder to his tone: "Although you are now more human than ever, your aspect of death remains with you. Truly remarkable."

As Ulquiorra stepped out into the light, the first thing that caught the female's attention was that Ggio's apprehension was confirmed. The Espada was definitely in Resurreción form.

However, though utterly unchanged since she last saw him, the dark-haired Espada presently had his eyes blindfolded, leaving him utterly sightless to his surroundings and hence relying on his every other sense instead. All while leaving Hallibel profoundly confounded...

"Remember that my eyes serve Aizen-sama," pointed out the Cuatro effortlessly, easily sensing the other's bewilderment "If I can't see, then neither can he."

"Why would you do such a thing?" asked the tanned female, her blonde eyebrows raised high whilst fully lowering her guard, more out of incredulity than trust.

"Because he doesn't know that I am here," he confided, taking the other even further aback with his furtive insubordination, _him_ of all the Espada "I came here on Grimmjow's behalf to see how you fared. In addition to you, I've also checked on Kurosaki Ichigo's family and friends from a distance - this too, at Grimmjow's request."

"Jeagerjaques _lives_?" enunciated the blonde female, sincerely stunned to hear this, before she then let out a soft sigh of relief when he nodded in confirmation "That's good to know. We were all under the impression Aizen had the intention of ending his life."

"He did at some point. However, Aizen-sama seems to have found another purpose for him."

At that, a wistful smile touched her lips, feeling a sense of contrition for the feline, despite the two of them often being at odds: "Fortunately or unfortunately enough, who can tell?"

"This boy," enunciated Ulquiorra, abruptly changing the subject, gesturing beyond where the female stood with a faint movement of his chin "He is a friend of Kurosaki Ichigo, isn't he?"

Shifting her attention behind over to those anxiously waiting inside, she paused for a second before she then signalled reassuringly at Appacci and the other two, watching as the tension noticeably evaporated from their frames, despite now harbouring perplexed expressions.

"I haven't told him," whispered Hallibel tightly, as she focused back on the Espada, before her features looked somewhat remorseful "He _has_ asked about the Shinigami Substitute, but I didn't have the heart to tell him. I merely shared that I wasn't aware of where he was."

It wasn't a _complete_ lie, to be honest.

Right after the Other War, she and all the other dissenter - and former - Arrancars had been separated from Grimmjow and everyone else, Ichigo included **(1)**. So she was not lying when she said that she didn't know what happened - or _was_ happening - to the orange-haired teen.

"That is not why I asked. Do not justify yourself if you believe that you did the right thing."

As the blonde frowned in silence, not convinced but considering his words, he spoke up yet again and steadily drew their conversation back to a prior point: "You have yet to answer me, Hallibel. How are you faring?"

Despite knowing that the other had no real common awareness of emotions, she could only retort unthinkingly, cynically: " _How_ do you think?"

"You are less in number than you used to be," observed the dark-haired male via his senses, before he attempted a careful guess, while trying to be courteous as he mistook her tone for angered grief "I conclude that you've had losses. Should I offer my condolences?"

"They're not _dead_ ," contradicted Hallibel, but her tone very much lacked conviction as she once again glanced over her shoulder to where everyone - even the Asano siblings - was now seated, nervously waiting "But, to some here, they might just as well be."

"I don't understand," said the dark-haired Espada, a slight tilt of his head the only visible sign of his puzzlement.

"Alright, I will tell you what happened to us, Schiffer," allowed the blonde female eventually, before she named a condition, a cautioning tone to her voice "One thing, however. Do not burden Jeagerjaques more with whatever he already has. We can take care of ourselves."

At that, he could only acquiesce, respectfully conforming to her request: "You have my word."

And so she spoke.

After the events of the recent war - the Other War - which had wrecked the Seireitei from the inside out, Hallibel and the other former Arrancars in allegiance to Grimmjow were forced into captivity back in the Hueco Mundo.

There, Aizen had found time to munificently strip them of all their powers, rendering some of them as simple as mere, plain humans, with nothing but a little enhanced strength as a gift.

The others amongst them, even less fortunate, had their energy harnessed and transformed into blades with an eternal lifespan, out to live their immortality under the guise of a weapon.

Hence, Appacci found herself with Illfort as her weapon. Ggio was bound to Mila Rose as his blade. And Hallibel received Findor as her zanpaktou.

And, the cruellest of all, Cirucci's twin swords were none other than her little brother, Luppi, and her beloved lover, Abirama. The two dearest beings to her, so close, yet so out of reach.

Ulquiorra could only listen in silence as Tia Hallibel recounted the details of their experience.

There had been rumours amidst the current and new Espada concerning their former comrades being forced back to their most humanlike origins, as a punishment for rebelliously absconding from the immortal, but none of those rumours depicted the truth as what he knew now.

Death, indeed, would have been a far kinder fate.

Awhile back, long ago, he would have been oblivious as to how _pained_ a situation like this could lead a person to be. Having gained a little insight on such things, Ulquiorra could find it in himself to at least show some form of support - was that the right word? ...Probably not - by using a couple of comforting words.

Only, he knew none.

Hence, he wisely chose to make use a tactic he had seen in play, which - although it wasn't quite the most efficient way - tended to allow a mind to remain occupied, by subtly smoothing the conversation onwards.

By now, the two of them were seated upon the floor, backs rested against the windowpanes, with Hallibel gazing absently ahead at the sky.

"Does it hurt?" he then inquired prudently, whilst also being slightly curious upon the matter at hand "What has been done to you?"

"No. Not for me, anyways," she replied, before considering how she truly felt about her current condition "It's simply strange to feel so...corporeal? If I can put it that way. Powerless, frail and so full of emotion. As Hollows, we _become_ hollow, devoid of humanity, or at least lacking a big part of it. To suddenly have most of what made us once human back again, however, is certainly a lot to take in."

"And what of Nelliel? And your third Fracción? I also do not see nor sense Stark, Lilynette or even Eduardo here. What has happened to them?"

"I don't know," sighed the female heavily, not daring to think about it despite the thought of it plaguing her mind for a few days now "I don't know if they're dead, alive and like us, or just alive somewhere... And then, after thinking about, I'd rather not know. Anything that may not or may have happened to them...they've never deserved. Especially not Nelliel."

" _None_ of you deserved this. This is cruel beyond measure," stated Ulquiorra abruptly, his tone holding firm finality to it "How unspeakably horrid of him."

This left Hallibel stunned speechless, and it took a while before she was able to talk again, her tone easily betraying her amazement: "I don't believe I've _ever_ heard you speak ill of Aizen."

"I cannot deny that his actions are causing far too much harm."

Uncertainty settled on her tanned features, as she raised an eyebrow, trying to find logic in the other's words: "And yet you still side with him and serve him. Why?"

"You know very well _why_ ," replied the Espada, weightiness to his tone, which led to Hallibel eventually nodding after a moment, as she understood what he was saying.

"Out of us all, you and Rialgo Yammy were the only ones that were not coerced or compelled to serve Aizen. Nor were you influenced or intimidated into doing so. You chose to, out of your own will," she said softly, reciting what had been common knowledge amongst them in the past, before she then ventured with a hypothesis "But _now_ , Schiffer, you regret it, don't you?"

"I regret nothing. I am loyal to Aizen-sama," asserted Ulquiorra steadily, but then, right after that, solidly countered that statement all the same "But I am _not_ loyal to his ideals, and I never will be. Those I will find a way to oppose, in each and every possible way I can."

"You've changed, Schiffer," remarked Hallibel in awe, totally incredulous and wondering when such a feat happened to the very one Espada the least probable to change.

The dark-haired Espada didn't say anything in response, leaving the blonde female to ponder over the matter at hand hereby presented, before she came up with suggestion: "If this can be done with discretion, you would be a great ally to those in need."

"And that will not be you," stated the Cuatro, noting the way the former Arrancar had spoken.

"We can no longer be part of this conflict. We are significantly weaker than ever," shared Hallibel ruefully, before she vaguely gestured behind her "Had it not been for that boy, we had not even sensed your presence. In fact, even at this moment, I can't barely pick up anything and I'm _this_ close to you. As of now and forth, we are utterly useless."

"No one is useless. Everyone has a purpose, as long as they're still living," said Ulquiorra, placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder before he stood, leaving her gobsmacked once again.

Hallibel could only stare. ...Was she dreaming? Ulquiorra of all people? _Saying_ such things? _Acting_ in this way? Why would he-?

Ah. All of a sudden, Hallibel believed that she could somewhat probably guess the reason. She might be completely off, but it was not totally absurd either.

By the time she recovered, the Espada was standing upon the balcony's ledge, ready to leave, so she promptly asked him: "What will you do now?"

"See if I can be an ally to those in need," declared Ulquiorra, gesturing majestically to the side which she swiftly followed, arching an eyebrow before a small smile flitted across her lips. He was pointing towards Karakura.

"Take care of her," drawled out the tanned female softly, before she then added jokingly "And let her rub off on you some more, will you?"

"I will," promised Ulquiorra sincerely, before nodding at his former comrade and taking his leave, as he spread his wings wide and flew away.

Although, Hallibel, bemused and faintly amused as she stared at the retreating shadow soaring under the moonlit sky, found herself realizing that he hadn't denied her jest in the slightest...

 **Back in Karigura Town.**

"My, my. What a lovely sight," drawled out Aizen with an amused smirk to his lips, his dark eyes raptly gazing at two out of his three captives. Only, neither could hear him. Nor see him for that matter, despite being coerced to face and kneel down in front of the immortal.

Collared, hands bound behind their back within leather cuffs, blindfolded with black silk, bit gags wedged painfully between their teeth, and earmuffs over their ears, Ichigo and Byakuya were almost completely and utterly sensory deprived - their sense of touch still theirs if not restricted - not all in tune with their surroundings. Completely unaware of what was going on, the two bound males - barefoot and clad in nothing but their tight-fitted leather trousers - were awfully tense, nervous, their frames stiff and rigid, their breathing uneven and strained, warily oblivious, and very much expecting the worst.

After attending to certain affairs, Aizen had rendezvoused with Jugo again at a later hour - also asking for the latter to bring the pair now present - back in the same room as before, his 'office', in order to discuss his captives' fate further. Hence, here they were.

And the blonde Twilight truly had an excellent flair for the dramatic. Thus his presentation of the teenager and the noble to the dark brown-haired male, and the latter had to admit that it was rather fetching, and also quite inviting.

Moving away from his desk, the immortal leisurely made his way over, steps holding weight and reverberation as he moved, cruelly increasing the tension for the pair, feeling footsteps but unable to know who was approaching them, before the noble made a startled sound when a hand suddenly wrapped around his throat, Aizen's hold careful but unforgivingly firm.

Byakuya was about to violently pull away, but he instantly froze in the very next seconds, as he felt an unwelcoming familiarity in how his neck was being held, his entire frame tensing up in absolute alarm. ...That one, small gesture was so commanding and imposing, in so many _very_ unpleasant ways.

Smirking broadly upon seeing the effortless power he now had over the dark-haired male, the child of chaos then allowed his other hand to slowly, freely venture upwards, heading for the other's jailed mouth.

Slipping his fingers past the Kuchiki's pried open lips, Aizen munificently coated his digits within the other's saliva, before dragging the wetness down the noble's chin, under the guise of drool. And, while Jugo smirked deridingly at the sight and the immortal's eyes darkened sinfully, the 6th Division's captain could only flush in horrified humiliation and indignant ire, his inability to speak up against this mortifying him even more.

But Byakuya did not dare pull away.

Chuckling in morbid amusement, Aizen ruthlessly let the torment persist - tracing a wet path over Byakuya's taut skin in meticulous detail, from his bound face to his exposed chest and abdomen, with his poor victim flinching or shuddering every now and then - before eventually withdrawing fully, much to the noble's deep relief, a significant change in his breathing a tell-tale to that.

Aware that it wasn't any of his business, Jugo couldn't help but blink curiously as he saw his master stride away, without submitting the younger male to a similar treatment. The blonde male was partly aware of his master's designs - as the latter had shared a few of them with the Twilights - and he knew the basics of what was in store for the dark-haired male. But the immortal didn't mention anything crucial or pertinent about the younger male - with the exception of requesting lenience on the Twilights' part - leading him to wonder. Why was Hero-chii even here at all? ...He'll probably ask Suzuki-sama about this at a later time.

"Tell me, how is it going, Jugo dear?" inquired the child of chaos smoothly, as he went back to leaning against the desk, locking his dark brown eyes with the other's stony green ones.

"Wonderfully," smirked Jugo sadistically, respectfully standing straight and placing his hands behind his back, like a good soldier "We Twilights haven't had this much fun in ages."

"That's indeed wonderful to hear," conceded Aizen lightly with a condescending smile, before he lowered his gaze back onto the bound pair at the blonde's feet "What else can you tell me?"

Pursing his lips as he meticulously considered his master's question, Jugo, blonde eyelashes fluttering, tilted his head to the side, as he slowly, diligently constructed his reply: "The boy-"

"Shujinkou."

"Ah, yes. Forgive me, Suzuki-sama. I'm having a real hard time calling him _that_ ," smiled the blonde Twilight ruefully as the other corrected him "I've been using Hero-chii instead though."

The child of chaos smirked at this. It was indeed just as fitting, if not more endearing, but the tag chosen was _meant_ to shame - the teen's reaction to it only serving as emphasis. And he was _not_ going to change it. That _will_ be what the patrons were going to address the Shinigami Substitute as. ...Aizen supposed however that the other dolls could also have their part of fun.

"Go on," ushered the immortal, nodding in encouragement for the blonde to continue talking.

"Hero-chii is - _was_ \- a blank page, making his training easier. He is very reticent and jittery, but rather docile and selfless," stated the blonde - as he leisurely reached out to thread his fingers through the teen's hair. True to Jugo's words, Ichigo first reacted by recoiling, startled out of his skin, before he then remained entirely still, his breathing erratic, uneasy, his head lowered a little in stiffened submission.

"One _can_ tell he is unwilling, but he _tries_ his best to hold it all in and take what he is given. He is also a very quick leaner," informed the blonde male, gently praising the teenager as he carried on petting the latter, before he then withdrew his hand and narrowed his stony green eyes pensively, reckoning "He should be able to perform in...three days, tops."

" _Fascinating_. Then again, this dear boy has always had the knack of taking others aback," commented the child of chaos with a smirk, before his dark brown eyes shifted their attention towards his other captive, an eyebrow arched with curiosity "What of Zakura?"

"How subjective can I be, Suzuki-sama?" drawled out the Twilight slowly with thinned lips, sleekly displeased as he now glared in Byakuya's direction with sheer venom.

This made the child of chaos chuckle, intensely entertained: "Be subjective later."

"Yes, Suzuki-sama. Zakura is... _strongly_ against what's happening to him, clearly," disclosed Jugo, struggling with his words as to not give his personal opinion on the matter at hand "Defiant and violent, he rejects - or rather, delays as long as he can - the possibility of what could happen to him. He doesn't surrender easily, not without a fight. And even when beaten, he _still_ tries to resist. He seems to digest pain better than pleasure. Point in fact, he downright _refuses_ to give into pleasure, at least not unless fully coerced to, with no other way out."

"Which I have seen. I thought he'd rebel, but I didn't think he still had _that_ much fight left in him," uttered Aizen - having seen an audio-less recording of the Twilights 'fun' with the pair, and thoroughly enjoying every bit of it, of course, notably upon seeing the three try something a bit 'adventurous', sticking to his orders and yet finding a loophole - before a knowing gleam shone in his dark brown eyes "But you _did_ push him to react, didn't you?"

"Yes," answered the blonde male blatantly, before frowning slightly, a tad puzzled "Isn't that what you asked for, Suzuki-sama?"

"Indeed I did. I had to know what it took to put dear Zakura in his worst of moods," voiced the child of chaos, somehow able to be cryptic yet telling at the very same time, before deep curiosity lit his features "So tell me. What _exactly_ did you say to set him off like he did?"

Therefore, Jugo, smug, relayed _precisely_ what he had said to push the Kuchiki over the edge. At first, the immortal's features were near unreadable - only a faint and fleeting trace visible of what the blonde assumed to be...anger? - before Aizen ended up chuckling scathingly, his tone a little hardened: "Oh my. How crude. And whose idea was it to say such a thing?"

"Who do you think, Suzuki-sama?" asked Jugo, a thin eyebrow arched up as he smiled, whilst inwardly willing his fitfully beating heart to calm down - the other's apparent yet brief and baffling ire making him feel rather skittish. ...Both in a bad and good way.

The blonde male's words took the immortal aback, grasping but not at all expecting that Doll would voluntarily give a hand so soon. She tended to give him an exceptionally cold shoulder - in addition to a _very_ hard and harsh time - when she was quite upset and infuriated with him.

However, if she chose such a brazen and blunt attack right from the start, even though she was acting from the shadows... It meant that she wanted to get this over with, as quick as possible.

A good insight.

"I see," drawled out Aizen pensively, promptly keeping this in mind and filing it for later use, before returning to the conversation at hand "And, on your more... _subjective_ opinion?"

"I outright _despise_ him," sneered the blonde flatly, saying so categorically and without regret.

Feigning incredulity to conceal his crude amusement, the child of chaos raised his eyebrows: "And why's that, my dear?"

Jugo was particularly talented at masking what he felt in front of people he did not wish to share anything with, just as he was skilled at feigning another emotion rather than the one that was eating him up.

Of course, he wasn't completely _perfect_. He had moments where one or two emotions slipped.

However, in front of Suzuki-sama, he made it to hide nothing at all - apart from his deferential dread towards the other. In front of the man that created who he was today, Jugo had nothing to hide.

"Zakura has latent potential, as loathe as I am to admit it. How can we Twilights guarantee the spotlight - which belongs to _us_ alone - if he exists? He's a threat to me," declared the blonde male ruthlessly, radically, whilst the other listened patiently "We struggled up to be where we are now, to be the best - _your_ best. And _I_ , will give it up to _no one_."

"Do be careful, Jugo," scolded the immortal gently, his tone understanding but still rather firm "You _know_ how I feel about ambition."

"My apologies, Suzuki-sama," said the Twilight, immediately repentant - and quick to catch the other's insinuation - yet Jugo resolutely maintained his opinion all the same "Only, with all due respect, you cannot truly deny that what I'm saying is true."

The relationship that Aizen had with the majority of the dolls was one of pure and plain profit, and it was no different in the Twilights' case. Brainwashing them or restraining them wasn't a requirement, as loyalty, obedience and commitment were all unconditionally imposed - since, unless he decided it, there was no way out for any of them and they were well aware of that. In addition, though most would not admit it, the dolls each sort of owed him a favour... All in all, they wouldn't exist without him and he could effortlessly pull the plug whenever he desired to.

Accordingly, the immortal allowed each and every one them to have, without any concern, an independence and a consciousness, leaving them free to act and express themselves how they wished to - as long as they kept to _Débauche's_ grounds and to the regulations set by the Code.

Which was why Jugo contradicted the immortal as he did now. He wasn't doing so in an act of defiance, but was merely affirming his point of view, which wasn't that off the beam anyways.

Aizen knew where the other stood. And understood perfectly well _why_ Jugo was saying this...

"No, I can't," conceded the child of chaos with a measured nod, considering the other's words whilst elaborating on his own end "But the fact remains that it will never happen. I simply wouldn't allow it. Know and rest entirely reassured that Zakura is here for one reason only - which you are already well aware of. With that done, I'll have no more use for him. Matter of fact, he'll be useless to everyone after this."

The blonde male considered the immortal, his cold green eyes widened faintly, an air of intrigue and fascination in them as tentative realization dawned upon his features: "...You hate him."

"Hate is such a strong word," mused the child of chaos, not denying nor confirming anything after a silent moment had briefly instilled itself "I'd rather leave any hatred I could hold for those who burden me more. Yet I can support that what I harbour for Zakura is similar, true."

"Then I am relieved," uttered the blonde male with a gentle, grateful bow of his head "I have nothing to fear, if Suzuki-sama truly holds no affection for him."

This, however, Aizen promptly confirmed with a cruel, curt smirk: "Not even a drop of it."

Jugo and the other Twilights were not hopelessly ignorant and they had been swift to pick up on the animosity - and a strangely similar level of absurd fascination, nay addiction - Suzuki-sama had for the dark-haired male, Zakura. But none of them had yet been able to fully grasp it. Then again, perhaps it was best not to.

"So, tell me, Jugo," spoke up the immortal, smoothly redirecting the conversation again "With them actually - well, _mostly_ \- doing what they're being told, what do you intend to do now?"

"Well," considered the blonde male pragmatically "They've _sort of_ learnt the basics, but both require a little more depth in those. What's left after that is the interaction with patrons. That, and how to perform in the plays."

"Excellent," praised the immortal, pleased with the other's clear-cut insights which caused the latter to glow gently with pride, before a dangerous thought occurred to the dark brown-haired male "Why not parade them tonight?"

Not that startled but still a little taken aback, Jugo raised his eyebrows up high, lips parting: "I was thinking of that, actually. Didn't think you'd approve. It _is_ their first time here after all."

"Being as it may, today's just a Mingle Day. Let the patrons have a little preview. Same for these two," stated Aizen, all while appreciating the fact that the Twilights never did anything without his consent or approval "Personally, I believe it will calm down Zakura a little."

Jugo reverently nodded, bowing low to hide the ugly shimmer of sadistic glee that pervaded his expression: "As you command, Suzuki-sama."

"Do have fun," urged the child of chaos with a low, sinister chuckle as he waved a hand at the Twilight, which was a mannerly signal for the latter to leave.

"Oh, I will," assured the blonde elatedly, a wicked glint in his green eyes as he moved over to the bound pair, curling two gloved fingers per collar and tugging lightly but firmly, indicating for both of them to stand.

They reluctantly but hurriedly did so, silent and stiff, sore and slow, before aversely following the pull that directed them along to...wherever the heck they were going presently.

The troupe had just about reached the exit when the child of chaos then called out smoothly: "One more thing, Jugo, before I forget."

The blonde Twilight blinked at that.

How unlikely. Suzuki-sama never forgot anything. He had a terrifyingly impeccable memory.

Deferentially, Jugo instantly halted in his step and spun over to lock eyes with his creator's, the latter who then closely regarded the dark-haired captive with a brooding, calculating air.

"Know that you have my permission - for you, Twilights - to do _anything_ you see fit when it comes to Zakura," commanded Aizen imposingly, much to Jugo's absolute relish "Bend him, break him, do what you will. In all honesty, better you after all, than Mr Wile."

... _Mr Wile_?!

It was truly startling what hearing a single name could do to a person...if one knew in depth who or what the name stood for.

It was so sudden and fleeting, but it had still struck Jugo hard, sadistic joy evaporating entirely.

The blonde male's mouth went dry, a clutching, daunting fear icing his already cold interior... Conceal as he may, the blonde Twilight could not hide it as his face turned pallid, blown eyes staring ahead but not seeing, a subtle, but violent shuddering tremble seizing his whole body - both Ichigo and Byakuya felt it, but neither were unable to comprehend what was going on.

It took almost half a dozen minutes for Jugo to calm down. There were three things left in his life which he feared unreservedly, and Suzuki-sama was none of them. ...But Mr Wile was.

Composing himself, long blonde eyelashes fluttered to close widened eyes, before opening them again an indecipherable green gaze flickered over to where the dark-haired male stood.

It wasn't that the blonde was feeling in any way _sorry_ for Zakura. Not only he didn't care at all, he also couldn't afford to think like that.

No. It was more of, seeing the other in a new light. ...A potential victim for Mr Wile, in an 'if-ever' scenario.

Jugo had once met this man - though he wasn't too sure if the term 'man' really applied - and well before that one boding evil encounter, he had basically assumed that Doll's rather loud and pure fixated resentment for the other to be an utter exaggeration.

It _really_ wasn't. And he truly wished he could have it somewhere in him to resent Mr Wile also, if he didn't downright and unconditionally fear every fibre of that man's existence.

What he faced in regards to Suzuki-sama - mostly admiration and awe - was _nothing_ to what Mr Wile was able to lure out from him. And every other doll here at _Débauche_ for that matter.

Saying but the name 'Mr Wile', and they'll all be an uncontrollable hysteric and chaotic mess.

Jugo honestly wouldn't wish anyone to be in the hands of that man, not even his worst enemy. But, better anyone else than himself, right?

Shivering, Jugo didn't dare query his master's words. Resorting to Mr Wile out of all people...

' _You don't just want to break him, do you, Suzuki-sama? You want to destroy him,_ ' concluded the blonde male privately, steeling his expression and fully returning to control, realizing that this was indeed beyond his comprehension. He'd have to let Bazz and Kandu in on this. _Fast_.

"By your command, Suzuki-sama," uttered the Twilight softly, bowing low once more, before hastily making his leave - with the captive pair - under his master's watchful, knowing eyes.

Aizen was all aware that Jugo had just politely bolted...which he truly couldn't blame him for.

Ah. Dear, dear Mr Wile. Not his most favourite person in the world, but a rather formidable one nonetheless. An exceptionally formidable nemesis it was best _never_ to have.

If Doll heard him consider talking to the one she considered a beast, she would not be likely to accept this. _At all_. She'd rather he had nothing to do with that man. And frankly, he agreed.

But, he meant it. If his plans for Kuchiki Byakuya did not play out as he intended - for Manter once again strongly mentioned that someone or something had the full intention of thwarting his intentions by causing his own demise - additional assistance would definitely be requisite.

Unwilling to think about any of this at the moment, Aizen, sighing, pivoted slightly where he stood, looking over a few documents upon the desk - he _had_ been absent for a while, so there were quite a few things that required his attention - when a very sudden, languid movement, dyed mostly in black, over at the still open door caught his eye.

"Did you forget something, Ju-?" began the immortal as he unhurriedly lifted his gaze, before he then cut himself off, not at all expecting to see who _actually_ stood there at the door " _Doll_?"

Effectively, leaned up casually and quite comfortably against the doorframe, there she was, the very haunting foundation of the greater part of his thoughts and troubles, Doll - who, as always, maintained her permanent childlike appearance, complete with her long cute pigtails.

He never questioned it, this dire need of hers to be so cosily joint to a juvenile facet. Everyone had their fair share of idiosyncrasies, him included. ...Not that he'd share them all out loud.

As he stared at her in disbelief, having not sensed her presence in the least, she simply smiled sweetly, head tilted endearingly to the side: "The one and only."

Aizen almost laughed in reminisce. Funnily enough, her words were actually pretty on point...

Recalling how their recent encounter had ended however - with acid ache and anger on both sides - the child of chaos sobered.

With no desire to get into another argument with Doll if he could help it, Aizen regarded the magenta-haired girl as he treaded cautiously, his tone courteous while his features were drawn into a straight, composed expression: "What can I do for you, love?"

"What _can_ you do for me? Hmm, let's see," drawled out Doll, as she hummed thoughtfully, entering with dawdling steps and closing the door behind her, before tactfully locking it shut.

She then slowly, silently ambled towards the child of chaos, tiptoeing with deadly grace - like that of a coryphée - before halting abruptly right in front of him, looking up deep into his eyes.

Her intense stare was making Aizen profoundly intrigued, because, rather than it being blank or veiled as usual, there was actually an animated, rippling glow in those large, magenta orbs. Only, given how much she generally hid, from everyone, he couldn't quite recall what _this_ specific expressive patina in her eyes stood for, one he currently couldn't clearly read anyways. A deep magenta gaze which seemed to be swirling blearily with a whirlpool of hectic emotions, some easy to catch onto, others not so much. And he truly wondered what-

"Sosuke," she called out melodiously, softly, earning his full and undivided attention as she leisurely pressed herself against him, her body moulding perfectly into his frame as she gently set her palms to his chest, before tentatively giving a light push.

Despite his puzzlement to this strange and unexplained moment, it was clear to him what she was aiming for, so he indulged her, allowing her push him until he was seated upon the edge of the desk.

Openly conveying his curiosity and confusion via his dark, searing gaze as he watched her, the child of chaos stiffened slightly as she gripped at his strong shoulders and swiftly hoisted herself onto his lap, with him quickly catching her hip with a hand as to steady her when she somewhat lost her balance.

Under his quizzical eyes, her every gesture, her every word seemed to be somewhat stuck in slow-motion, as she looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and parted her lips to whisper: "I'm burning, Sosuke. ...Undress me."

The immortal froze, thunderstruck. That little statement of hers was wrong on _so_ many levels.

"... _What_?" he blurted out aloud, his tone caught somewhere between incredulity and hysteria, as he gaped down at Doll with wide, shocked brown eyes.

"I didn't peg you for the slow type, Sosuke," she chided with a tut, condescendingly rolling her eyes at the other, before she drawled out lazily, tilting herself off to the side, a bit of her smooth, pale shoulder revealing itself provocatively "Un. Dress. _Me_."

Oh, yes, something was _definitely_ off here.

She was hardly wearing anything - with her skimpy-hemmed, long-sleeved black nightie over her full-length red stockings, in addition to her dark gloves, but that was a detail - and yet she sought to be _undressed_? She'd be nearly bare if he dared to do that.

Not that he was actually thinking about doing it. No. Actually, he _was_. ...Holy bloody hell.

Were this to have come up a long time ago, he would have complied without any hesitation. But given how strained their relationship had become over the years - although he genuinely tried his best to make it right again - this was utterly absurd. Especially, since it was coming from _her_ , she who attempted to harm him, as a personal retribution, at every occasion she got. ...Was this a hoax of hers too? Was this to test his boundaries and, should he give in, she'd lash out at him?

...Well, his boundaries, alas, were currently nowhere near to being kept in check.

Underneath the intense, unrelenting look she was giving him, Aizen eventually gave in with a soft sigh, warily conceding to her inane request - command, more accurately - and hoping that he wouldn't regret it.

Just as he tentatively reached out with his free hand, delicately setting it on her lap and slowly inching over to take a vigilant hold of the hem to her dress - in order pull it over and off her body, from the bottom up - Doll let out a quiet snicker, before clapping a hand to her mouth.

As he promptly locked careful but baffled eyes with hers, checking to see if she hadn't gone mad, she leisurely withdrew her hand, a wide, mischievous smile to her lips as she uttered softly, using a slow sing-song tone of voice: "Be careful, Sosuke, I have no underwear on~."

Flabbergasted, Aizen could have sworn that he had swiftly been hit hard with a burning fever, his heart fluttering out of control.

Oh, the _devilish_ little minx and the mess she made of him.

Speedily stifling a groan, the immortal's hands instantly flew up and off her, in the semblance of surrender, before he threw her an aggravated look, a faint colour to his cheeks ruining the severity of his frown. ...Only _she_ could throw reason and self-control straight out the window. Any flawless management he'd have over his emotions failed _entirely_ , when around this girl.

In response, Doll simply giggled it off giddily, her laughter tinkling melodiously, before she shifted - nearly losing her balance again due to lack of support - and snuggled further into his broad frame, pressing herself close, her burning cheek touching the cool skin of his collarbone.

Far too stunned to prevent her, Aizen, stock still, brow furrowed, hands still up in surrender, blinked down in disbelief, catching her sigh contently and nestle up into his neck, her breath warm like the rest of her body was, too feverish...as if she was _actually_ suffering from a fever.

"You feel _so_ fuckin' good, Sosuke. You're cooling that rotten heat down. ...Like an iceberg."

And possible - or genuine - delirium.

Baffled, the child of chaos was utterly and totally floored. What on earth had gotten into her? And _why_ did this situation remind him so of something Aizen was unable to put his finger on?

Needless to say, things did _not_ get any better.

As he tried to figure out what was going on with her, she suddenly rocked up right against him, accidently - purposely? - brushing their already narrowly correlated intimacy together.

Tittering at the edge of the desk and his composure, Aizen almost lost it.

And, when she _carried on_ instead of stopping, he had to hurriedly bite back down whatever noise had nearly escaped his lips, wrapping his strong arms securely around her - his one and only uncontrolled and unruly weakness - and breathing her in as a distraction, taking in deeply that intoxicating scent particular only to Doll. A discreet but incredibly consuming aroma of faded, burning roses **(2)**.

"D- Doll?" gasped out the immortal breathily, restraint waning fast as she continued to move teasingly - steadily but excruciatingly slow regardless of his hold - with Doll's soft, soothing fragrance being the only thing reigning him in right now "What _the hell_ are you doing?"

"Turning you on," she purred dizzily, grinning triumphantly wide at the success in her torture, before she nibbled affectionately at his jawline "And it's _working_ , So-su-ke~."

Hell. If she was sincere, then this was serious, because he was fairly positive that she had _no idea_ what she was doing. If she was messing with him, she was doing a _marvellous_ job at it.

" _Doll_ ," protested Aizen, jaw and eyes clenched tight shut, resisting the need to give in as she raked her teeth down the long of his jugular, before travelling all the way back up by tongue.

He shivered at the pleasurable sensations she was providing him, whereas he was half-caught between wanting to shove her off him and violently capitulating to this lust-induced quandary.

Although blood pounded loudly in his ears, too loudly, a faint voice of caution reached him ' _don't do it. You'll hurt her again'_ , while another hissed ' _go ahead. She's offering, isn't she?_ '

Oh, the painful inward struggle. Vices and morals. Since when had he ever cared for the latter anyway?

' _You do when it comes to her_ '.

Knowing that his eyes by now were glowing an ethereal dark blue, with as much control as he could muster despite being hopelessly responsive to her touch, the immortal caught her by the shoulders and gently pushed her away, putting a breathing distance between them, before he peered at her carefully, panting softly as he studied her with crucial detail.

Bright blush to her cheeks and dark flush to her skin, uninhibited actions and speech, unshielded gaze which yet revealed nothing too clear about herself, lethargic and at ease, effusive and-

And then it clicked, Aizen's glowing eyes going wide as he paled a little, breath hitching: "You're... _drunk_."

It wasn't a question - it was obvious, now - but the sheer shock in his tone and face was tangible.

Doll paused and frowned deep, seemingly displeased both by the reality of her condition and being seen like this by the other, but that brief moment of self-awareness faded fast, and she then shrugged uncaringly, an eyebrow arching up haughtily: "I am. Your point, Sosuke?"

The dark blue glow died immediately, startled eyes now dark brown again.

Good heavens. _How_ could he have not realised her state sooner? If he hadn't held back- No, no, no. He'd rather _not_ think about that.

Falling back into the haze of drunkenness, she began her ministrations anew, leading the child of chaos to stress out urgently, reproachfully: " _Doll_!"

When she even didn't bother acknowledging him this time, turning slightly aggressive and more determined, he then tentatively made use of another name, one only he had for her, smoothly whispering it within her ear, where no one else could ever hear: "Naruka **(3)** , _please_."

That three-syllabled name, acting like a magic spell, stopped her completely, her whole body stilling as she peered up at Aizen from under her long, dark eyelashes, waiting for the rest of whatever was hanging at the immortal's lips now that he had her full attention.

"Stop."

Magenta eyes going wide, she recoiled - nearly falling again - as if she had just been slapped, before she lowered her gaze, biting her lip as she whispered bleakly: "Don't you want me?"

"That is _not_ what I'm saying, Naruka. I'll always want you. _**Always**_ , do you hear?" he declared unswervingly, urgency heavily clouding his typically logical thought process "It's just, right now, at this very moment, you _need_ to stop."

Registering to a certain extent what he had just openly stated, she blushed prettily, biting her lip, before her mood then did a 360 degree turn and she moped bitterly: "I don't _want_ to stop."

"Come on, dear. You have to. You do not know what you're doing. Now, get up."

Only, the more he made to try and pry her off of him, the tighter she'd latched onto him, like a leech, preying off his senses, his mind, his reason.

"Don't wanna," she uttered doggedly, brushing her lips against his face, narrowly missing his mouth, and Aizen felt himself react again, quaint sensations fluttering around inside of him.

Her voice. Her embrace. Her touch. It had been so long. Too long. And he yearned for it more than ever- ...Wasn't _he_ the one supposed to incarnate Lust?

 _Try to tell you no_

 _But my body keeps on telling you yes_

 _Try to tell you stop_

 _But your lipstick got me so out of breath_

 _ **(One More Night, by Maroon 5)**_

Leave it to dear Doll to throw off _everything_ that made sense to him. And so, here he was. Great Child of Lust, a conqueror and a slayer, molested silly and at the mercy of a girl drunken and unaware out of her mind. ...Rather laughable, really.

Notably since his actual dither of resistance and resolve weren't because he had been deprived of sexual contact or the like - he had had Grimmjow and a few others for that specific craving.

No. Aizen hungered for _her_. And, in addition to this being normally impossible for the two for them, this was also _maddening_ , because, what was happening right now, wasn't real. Not with her so inebriated she had totally forgotten about her grudge against him. Not with the two of them not meant to be in the first place.

One would say that he was crazy, foolish to forgo an opportunity like this, one that he _wanted_ , vigorously casting aside the one he was so painfully and incomprehensibly besotted with.

However, were he any viler than he already was, only then, would he have not made her stop.

Aizen had no values for such an irrelevant triviality as morality. It was beneath him as a Child of Chaos. Always has been, always will be.

But, when chaos came under the form of a being, what other way to deal with it but with a sliver of decency, lest one wished to be rendered to naught?

Ah. He was losing track again, spouting nonsense. Oh, the irrationality she drew out of him...

"And what, _do_ you want, Naruka?" demanded the immortal with an exasperated sigh as he once again tried to keep her away, but his push this time had been a little too forceful, and so she stumbled butt first onto the ground right at his feet.

Horrified, Aizen swiftly dropped down to her side, but froze midway when the very next word she uttered made what could be considered as his heart come to a screeching halt: "You."

Unlike him with his inability to lie, Doll had no qualms at all when it came to fibbing freely. There were only two very rare instances where she would be entirely truthful. When she was drunk - which he had the utter misfortunate of experiencing twice, this time being the second - or when she was crying - though he had only seen her crying but once, and never again since. She wasn't this honest when angered. Or rather, she was far more prone to lying _when_ angry...

Mouth going dry due to the total sincerity within Doll's expressive features and her piercing gaze, Aizen gathered what remained of his nous, closing his eyes and exhaling shakily: "I told you this before, Naruka. I will not - _never_ \- touch or take advantage of you when you're dr- when you're like this. If anything, I'd really rather you be willing and lucid, dear."

Magenta eyes went wide, uncertain awe within them: "Oh? Would you, _really_ , pass up _such_ an occasion, Child of _Lust_?"

Yes. Yes, he would. It was totally worth it. And, when she sobered, she'd most surely agree...

"You're clearly not thinking straight," he murmured with a faint frown, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, before caressing her cheek, with her swift to lean into his touch "Come, love. I'll put you to bed."

"I'm not a child, Sosuke," she grumbled, and yet extended her arms towards him with a pout, causing the immortal to chuckle quietly.

"At times, I truly beg to differ."

Large magenta eyes twinkled with jest: "Then that would make you a fuckin' paedophile."

"That's awfully rude," chided the immortal lightly, smoothly gathering Doll in his arms and holding her close, before easily getting to his feet.

"I'm never polite when it comes to you," she admitted in a murmur, immediately seeking the coolness of his body, nuzzling her still burning warm cheek against the exposed part of him - his shirt being halfway buttoned - as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Sighing, she relaxed in his hold, before she muttered, voice laced with a streak of hostile ire: "And only _I_ fuckin' get to be as such with Sosuke. No one else can fuckin' insult him and dream of getting away with it."

The child of chaos raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her drowsily pronounced words. It almost sounded like she was asserting this, as if holding an unfinished discussion with somebody else.

As sweet sleep began to claim her, Aizen, with no desire to disturb her, had begun walking for the door, with the benevolent intention of taking her to her room, when her grip on the back of his shirt abruptly tightened: " _Don't._ "

Instantly worried, the immortal halted in his step, eyes darting over to her as he uttered gently: "Naruka?"

Shaking a little, she pressed her face further into his chest and urgently let out a near inaudible whisper, sounding like a small, terrified child: "Not my room. I- Can't be alone. Not tonight."

"...Of course," Aizen conceded easily, concern inching a notch higher as he carried on talking, outwardly showing nothing as he teased lightly "I'll let you stay here if you wish. Should you promise to behave, that is."

That last part was definitely meant as a joke.

But the tone of docility in her response was totally unexpected, seeming ready to do _anything_ as to not be left alone.

"I promise, Sosuke. I promise, so _please_..."

Aizen's eyes widened with apprehensive realization. Her seeking him made sense now. She had wanted- no, _needed_ company, but had not dared to ask directly. ...Something had happened, and she didn't want to be alone. Or she'd be left to remember.

Mind spinning in alarm, the immortal tried to recall what was capable of putting Doll in such a condition, the scarce things that managed to break past her detachment, but shook her badly.

' _Let's see,'_ pondered Aizen carefully, as he directed himself over to a comfy couch to the side, upon which he gently lied her down, before tenderly running his hand soothingly across her hair - whilst Doll curled up adorably on herself, gradually relaxing again under his touch.

As the child of chaos mentally ticked off what could have possibly bothered Doll, he suddenly remembered that she had a different method for dealing with each difficulty that troubled her.

So then, in that case, to name a few, there was aloofness, resentful anger, a speck of violence and, indeed, drunkenness, which, if he wasn't wrong, was specifically for-

"Did anyone die today?" ventured the immortal tentatively, vigilant not to distress her further.

With her eyes closed, she remained still, silent.

Just when he thought that he had either gotten it wrong or that she had probably fallen asleep, Doll opened her eyes and looked up at him, her tired gaze drowning brightly with grim guilt: "What gave it away?"

"How drunk you are. How much _did_ you even drink, Naruka?"

"Can't recall," she mumbled, frowning crossly before closing her eyes again, her mouth tense.

Aizen knew that expression of hers in particular all too well. Agitated and stressed out of her mind, she was strenuously trying keep herself together...and failing.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" he asked softly, not once stopping his gentle, calming caresses.

Again, Doll didn't respond right away. But when she did, fulminating loathing and rage came to harden her every word: "The fuckin' beast sent baka-Majima and Fukaku. Again."

Stiffening, Aizen felt himself grow cold.

... _Mr Wile_. Oh, this was going to be bad. ... _ **Very**_ bad, if Doll's state was any indication.

"He should know better than to seek me when I'm not available to receive him - or his men," he stated, frowning with faint disquiet and frustration - both which were caused by Mr Wile in person - before the immortal gently fretted over his distraught Doll "What happened, love?"

"They're no more. Fukaku and baka-Majima, I mean."

"That's it?" uttered Aizen, surprised and relieved, but quite confused because it didn't explain at all Doll's slow downward spiral "It's alright, dear. You know that Mr Wile has no fondness for those who _work_ for him. He can always recruit to fill in the gaps. No need to feel so-"

"I also had the ' _things_ ' the beast sent killed by one of the guards," cut the magenta-haired girl curtly, quickly, not needing to open her eyes to guess that Aizen had gone pale.

And indeed he had. The immortal almost stopped breathing.

Scratch whatever he had said before. It was _**so much**_ worse than 'bad'.

Halfway between horrified and scandalized, the immortal slowly choked out with shock: "You did _what_?!"

In no way was he faulting her - well, perhaps a little - but he couldn't help the slight spike of fright seizing him. He could effortlessly deal with the Shinigami, the Hollows and anyone else he had an enemy, all lunging at him right now, rather than face an angry Mr Wile.

Notably not with the price to pay that would surely be set forth by that man.

"They. Are. Kids," she seethed coolly, large, fervent eyes snapping open whilst her jaw was set firmly, stubbornly, before her resolute demeanour swiftly shrivelled up as guilt and gloom ate at her again "Well, _were_ anyways."

The immortal stared at her, speechless, disbelieving. As decent her done deed had been, Doll _knew_ of Mr Wile as much as he did, and she _knew_ that he was not a person to provoke.

Couldn't she for _once_ in her life not act so haphazardly?

...No. She wouldn't be herself if she did so.

At least _now_ he understood the reason - the culprit - behind dear Doll's inebriety.

Poor precious thing, holding a heart she resented having. ...Just like him.

Feeling a burst of a headache coming along, Aizen shook his head and sighed, tone of voice quiet as he genuinely wondered how to skid away from this fresh mess unscathed: "Now that, my dear, might be a problem."

And by 'might', the child of chaos meant 'most definitely'.

Not only lying was not a possibility, but it was largely known that no guard here in _Débauche_ took any initiative on their own, blindly following the orders of only three individuals without asking: the immortal himself, Manter and Doll.

And given that neither of the former two would actually do such a rash thing... Well, needless to say, Mr Wile was not a fool.

Aizen resisted the urge to groan. This was one ascending conflict he did **not** look forward to.

Vividly aware of the immortal's patent predicament and rather rueful for being the cause of it, Doll curled up even further on herself, eyes downcast, her tone gentle and genuinely apologetic: "I didn't mean to. I- I just...got _so_ mad. They were already dead. There was no life in them. No future for them, here or out there. And there was no sense in setting them free. Or letting them go back to the beast for it to do even worse to them. They were no longer free anyways, captives to being lifeless. I couldn't- I just-"

' _I saw myself in them.'_

Magenta eyes wide and haunted, adrift and obscuring, her voice was cracking up, breaking...

"It's alright, Naruka, calm down," he uttered soothingly, promptly worried all over again as he gathered her quivering form gently in his strong arms once more, holding her tight against him "You're here. _Here_ , safe with me...as much as you dislike it _\- (she let out a curt laugh at that)._ Besides, were my priorities any different, I would've most likely done the same as you did. Don't worry, my love. I'll try and figure something."

With an agonizing and stressful emphasis on 'try'.

And here Aizen was just recalling earlier how unpleasant it was to have Mr Wile as an enemy.

A powerful monster, one which was best not to offend, Mr Wile took immense pride in what he did, in what he designed...in what he damaged. And anyone destroying his 'beautiful' work - his 'masterpieces', in which he put so much time and pleasure - other than himself or doing so without consulting him first, was close to committing a massive offence - one very close to blasphemous, according to Mr Wile.

Now, Aizen had to find a quick and efficient way to settle any hostilities before they began. As though the immortal didn't have enough concerns as it was...

On top of that, and it was probably the most worrying part in all this, Doll had a terrible knack - or extreme bad luck - of easily getting on that man's bad side. She had already 'disagreed' and 'argued' with Mr Wile on a past issue, and it had almost ended in utter and total chaos.

True, the man was horrendously appalling, worse than most, and Doll's rampant resentment for the other was comprehensible, but she was blatantly putting herself in danger. All over again...

"Sosuke?" she gingerly uttered all of a sudden, her tremulously soft spoken voice a ghosting breath to his ear, whispers of something _very_ painful to hear within her next words.

"Yes, my dear?" he asked tentatively, worriedly, but not at all ready for what she was going to say, despite recognizing the bleeding agony in her tone.

"I- I want to die. _Let_ me die," pleaded Doll, her fractured voice charged with deep emotion, making Aizen fall in petrified silence "I want to forget. Forget it all. But I- I can't. I just can't forgive myself. For everything. All I've ever done, Sosuke. I just _can't_. I've done too much. So, _please_. I'm b- begging you. Don't hold me back anymore. And please, _please_ , let me go."

And in that very instant, _nothing_ _else_ , within the entire universe, mattered more than the grief-stricken, crumbling girl in front of him. Whatever had transpired moments ago in front of her eyes, had _such_ a damaging impact on her that she was amalgamating it somehow to her past...

Another thing Doll would only dare speak of when inebriated. She refuted it completely when she was lucid and teetotal...only to wake up screaming in the middle of the night.

Entirely hidden from the world under tight protective layers of clothes, her soft skin, her lithe body was flawless. Perfect. Beautiful. But _she_ , could only see horror, blood and death in them.

She saw herself as cursed, as vile, as sick, as someone who didn't deserve to live. Lies carved within her flesh and etched into her mind from the moment she could walk and talk. And kill.

So much blood, too much blood on her hands that she didn't care to live, and wanted to die. Badly. Desperately. So much, it was painful. Painful to her. And painful to Aizen himself.

Hence stood their diverging point, the chasm in their relationship, the variance, the betrayal... He didn't _let_ her die - couldn't - prevented it by keeping her safe within a body that could heal and live on endlessly. And she _never_ forgave him for that.

Yet, how cruel of her to beg him - he who treasured her, but dared not admit it - to let her die.

In the end, Aizen never gave her a reply to her distressed pleas, letting her hold onto him like a lifeline instead, as he gently whispered honeyed words and sweet nothings into her ear, while her entire body shook with tremors of trauma, not one tear falling from her eyes despite her anguished howls of pain and self-loathing.

For anyone who would hear, they'd believe that an animal's cub was lost, and crying for help.

 _How can I take the pain away?_

 _How can I save...?_

 _A fallen angel, in the dark_

 _Never thought you'd fall so far_

 _Fallen angel, close your eyes_

 _I won't let you fall tonight_

 _Fallen angel, just let go_

 _You don't have to be alone_

 _Fallen angel, close your eyes_

 _I won't let you fall tonight, fallen angel_

 _ **(Fallen Angel, by Three Days Grace)**_

 **The Next Morning.**

Dark brown eyes gently fluttered open, before they swiftly and immediately squinted as Aizen hissed, sunlight assaulting him, disorienting him. ...It was day already? But how-? When-? He didn't recall falling asleep. Nor could he truly believe that he'd really slept through the night.

The immortal was about to shift and stand, when he took in the position he was currently in. The child of chaos was laid out comfortably upon the sofa within his office and, with a warm blanket draped over the two of them, cradled in his arms was Doll, all curled up against him - with her hands fisting his shirt in a clutched hold, her long lashes fluttering faintly every now and then as she, maybe, dreamt, her figure lightly rising and falling with a steady calm breath.

Amazingly, she was in a deep, serene slumber, something he wasn't used to seeing - given all the nightmares that'd plagued her - but found himself instantaneously fond of. Aizen's breath was caught in his throat, unable to look away. She seemed so...at peace.

Normally, Doll would be far too agitated in her sleep to lie still throughout the entire night, or she'd simply awake well before him. And he was a rather early-riser himself. A quick glance at the clock up upon the wall confirmed that. It was six o'clock sharp.

The immortal briefly considered whether he should get up and go about his business, but he then chose against it, wanting to indulge in this rare moment a bit more. Besides, him leaving might wake her. And then he'd have to face a hangover-ed Doll. ...He'll just stay put for now.

Rolling his eyes at himself with a quiet chuckle, the child of chaos tightened his hold faintly as he cast a gentle gaze over her face, absorbing her features devoid of all ferocities and hassles.

His gaze then spied the necklace - which he hadn't noticed last night - he had brought back for her, peeping out from the wide collar of her nightie, and a soft smile found its way to his lips.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one subject to denial when it came to their unruly relationship.

Despite the periodic bouts of anger she'd deliberately draw from him and the hurt she'd cause him - which he could never blame her for - his constant infatuation for her was startling, along with all the lengths he'd instinctively go through for her, without thought or trouble.

He'd fight, and even kill for her. Anything she wanted, he would be more than willing to give.

But Doll wanted nothing of all that. She wanted only two small, little things, the very things he couldn't bring himself to bestow upon her. Love or Death. One or the other. A choice. Only, the child of chaos could sincerely - and selfishly - give her neither.

She had no idea what she was asking of him. Or perhaps she did, which was why she asked...

Nevertheless, Doll would only have to settle for the sole thing he could offer her without any toll or toil - safety - no matter how much it would undeniably hurt the two of them in the end.

Out of all those he could have come to yearn so passionately for, Aizen had to pick a stoned, suicidal and seething soul. A girl in a constant state of crisis.

He smiled softly. If he had to it over again, he wouldn't alter a thing. ...Other than hurting her.

Aizen wasn't one for regret. The Witch of Lust had raised him to act out his desires without apology, simply because he could. Because it was his right. Because he was a Child of Chaos.

Only, this dear little precious nightmare of his had this uncanny ability to bring it out of him, in spades. And it was...aggravating as hell.

For Doll however- For Naruka, sweet, pretty, unique little Naruka, he truly wished he had had the strength to put her desires before his own. But he hadn't been able to...And _still_ couldn't.

He had barely closed his eyes again, when a voice called out to him urgently: "Aizen-sama."

Dark brown eyes flew open to meet mismatched blue eyes, one of them considerably darker than the other, before the immortal spoke up in a hushed voice: "You seem worried, Manter."

Before him stood the Witch of Lust - present out of thin air - truthfully enough appearing to be somewhat overwrought as she murmured just as quietly: "When am I not, Aizen-sama?"

"So?" inquired Aizen with a soft sigh, knowing that his surrogate mother was concerned ever since she had taken a peek into his own future. And had inadvertently seen his alleged demise, with nothing else to clarify further on that hindrance.

Her actual worries however didn't involve that part: "I have received word from your father."

"And?"

"Still no sign of Kurosaki Isshin."

Ah. Manter's uneasiness made sense now.

"What? And _where_ the hell _is_ he?" wondered the immortal, mystified, whilst mindful to keep his voice from waking Doll, before his brow then furrowed "How odd that he'd disappear like this. _Especially_ with his son here. With _me_ , of all people. I know that he has always left his son's dilemmas for the latter to deal with on his own, but given how _dire_ Ichigo's situation is, I would've expected him to - despite _really_ not looking forward to it - interfere. ...I can't even begin to make sense of this."

"There is more," stated the witch slowly after a moment of watching the child of chaos frown, utterly confounded and unable to fathom a reason "Your father has appointed Hinamori-sama to rule over the Hueco Mundo, given that Las Noches was totally unsupervised."

"I don't mind," brushed off Aizen distractedly, not really listening for he was still focused on his analysis of Isshin's absence "That's in fact a very good idea. It'll keep Hinamori busy-"

Pausing instantly as he finally caught what Manter had said, the immortal blinked in disbelief: "What do you mean ' _totally_ _unsupervised_ '?"

"Since bringing your captives here, Schiffer-sama has yet to return to the Hueco Mundo."

Oh, how utterly lovely. And bad incidents abruptly decided to pile up over each other in heaps.

Bewildered, brown eyes went wide: "Ulquiorra? ... _Missing_? Hasn't anyone looked into this?"

"Luisebarne-sama is on the matter as we speak."

Ah, yes. Veneno, the new Segundo Espada, younger brother of the late Barragen Luisenbarne.

"That's very strange."

Indeed it was. Ulquiorra never failed _anything_ Aizen has ever asked of him. And to _disappear_...

"It is," agreed the witch daintily, before she thought back to the discreet and curious exchange she had witnessed between the Cuatro and former Sexta beforehand "But I believe that your once-Espada might know about this."

"Grimmjow? I'll ask him," asserted Aizen, considering this newer angle, but he promptly broke it off when he saw _where_ the witch's mismatched eyes were staring, with wide, wary vigilance.

There was no lost love between Manter and Doll. The Witch of Lust was afraid of Naruka, of what she was, what she could do, and saw the magenta-haired girl time and again as a threat. A threat to the immortal himself, no matter what he said or how he attempted to convince her otherwise, that in fact _he_ was a danger to her. The fact that the witch also knew of his intricate feelings for his little Doll, did very little to help ease those concerns.

And then there was Naruka, who _hated_ Manter. To be fair, there were very little people that Naruka _liked_ at all. Nonetheless, she _genuinely_ loathed the Witch of Lust as much as Mr Wile. Actually, anyone remotely linked or likely to remind Doll of her past, was instinctively flung into her hate zone. Without fail or thought.

"Back together again, I see," observed Manter, smiling small and attempting to sound delighted for him, but the apprehension in her mismatched eyes was far too obvious.

"Not quite," denied Aizen with a shake of his head, frowning as concern came creeping back "She...had a bad night."

He then related had ensued last night...whilst subtly omitting what wouldn't matter to Manter.

"Luckily, Mr Wile has no ill intentions for _you_ ," muttered the Witch of Lust, quite aghast by what she had just been told "I sincerely fear what her recklessness may someday cause you."

' _You have no idea,'_ thought the child of chaos, with light amusement he knew he shouldn't be feeling given the dire upcoming advents, before he spoke up to the witch, a faraway mien to his features "It wouldn't be Doll otherwise, Manter. You _know_ that's how she is."

After a moment, she then nodded reluctantly, prior to asking tentatively: "Have you told her?"

A brown eyebrow arched up: "About what exactly? You know I don't have secrets with her."

"You are well aware of _what_ , Aizen-sama."

"I told her that you've foreseen my death," whispered the other with a sigh, still not buying it "She doesn't believe it, Manter. Neither do I still."

"I was not talking about that," stated the mismatch-eyed witch exasperatedly, with an indistinct artful air that Aizen knew too well. Manter looked at him like _that_ when hinting to his sex life.

"Doll knows that I mix and blend with both genders. ...That wasn't it either? Then what-?"

The faint smile to his lips abruptly faded, wishing she hadn't brought up _that_ precise subject, now knowing _exactly_ what the brown-haired witch was asking.

"Not yet," whispered the immortal tautly, before narrowing his eyes at the look of reprimand currently shining within hers "Don't give me that look. I haven't had the time."

"Are you not merely _delaying_ it?" deadpanned the dark brown-haired witch, an eyebrow high.

"I _will_ tell her, Manter. Just...Now _isn't_ a good time."

"More like you have no idea as to how to present the issue to her," she chided with deferential admonishment, before adding knowingly "Without hurting her."

With all the respect and esteem he owed the witch, Aizen did not appreciate it one bit when Manter would try and rebuke him when it came to Naruka.

Hence, dark brown eyes narrowed indignantly, warningly: "Well, since you've _visibly_ figured it out, why not _leave_ , and let me come up with a solution, hm?"

Sighing softly, the witch spoke to him with gentle yet inflexible chastising, trying to make him see that he had more important matters to deal with than mere 'matters of the heart': "Aizen-sama, you _cannot_ risk your life for hers, no matter how deeply you are involved with her. You are putting _everything_ , even yourself on the line, and yet, you are utterly incapable of telling Doll what she _should_ hear. All this could have been avoided if you simply did just that. It is true that you will be at risk from then on out, but at least you will be setting yourself - and her - free. You will no longer have to deal with the all the burdens you yourself have placed upon your shoulders in her regard. Just have her forgive you, both walk away and never look back."

His features only darkened further, not appreciating being seen through in such a sharp manner. And also _not at all_ liking what he had just heard.

Yes, his true intentions were not quite what they seemed to be, at least not from anyone else's perspective but his own.

Yes, nearly everything he had done until now was not all part of _his_ plan alone, and he was merely carrying out the will of many in their stead, until they could all call it quits.

Yes, the Kuchiki were an embellished excuse, but remained a crucial and rather relevant one, one that he wasn't anywhere short of letting slip through his fingers.

Yes, he was at risk now and will be at risk later, if the wrong ones found out or figured out what he was - and had been - hiding so carefully, right under their noses, for so long.

Yes, it would be so, _so_ much easier if he just catered to the witch's advice and let this all go...

Would he do it? No.

Would he stop? Never.

Would he let anyone else know? Not as long he _breathed_.

"This truth you want me to tell her isn't the one she'll wish to hear, _XxxX_ ," drawled out the immortal slowly, dangerously, using the witch's real name sharply which was like an unkind slap to Manter's face, her mismatched eyes wide with horror "And nor do I for that matter."

Enraged, Aizen turned his head away from Manter, briskly ending the discussion, leaving the Witch of Lust to depart in a rattled rush, rueful for riling the other over such a touchy subject.

Racing out as hurriedly as she could to evade the immortal's escalating anger, she was quick to close the door behind her as she berated herself, admonished herself.

What a fool, she was.

She should have known better after all. She was all too well aware that the immortal had this brazenly unwise judgement when it came to Doll. And Manter knew that Aizen would _always_ put Doll before anything and anyone else. Hence, where his plans where were heading. A man was undeniably lethal when guided by whatever feelings truly motivated and ruled over him.

Manter shivered as she quickly sauntered down the hall she had aimlessly taken, the sound of her name still scorching her skin.

For a Witch, the use of their real name was a threat to them, but a power to those they served. Whether to point out to the Witch that she was out of line or going overboard, it could be used for other various reasons when spoken. And it could also be used for the Witch's death sentence, for only a Child of Chaos could kill a Witch without dying in turn, when using the right words...

Composing herself, the mismatched-eyed witch wisely chose to never utter such facts again. A danger Doll might be, but Manter couldn't quite believe that the magenta-haired would be the one behind that unnerving demise Aizen had waiting him ahead. ...At least, she _hoped_ not.

Halting in her strides, the Witch of Lust frowned cautiously, thoughtful. She was well aware that Aizen had once prevented Doll from dying. And will most likely do so again, given how beguiled he was with her. Then...would the latter's death _be_ the immortal's own downfall?

' _So, for Aizen-sama's sake, I am to find a way to keep Doll alive,'_ decided Manter resolutely, with a nod for good measure, before proceeding to walk again, staunch confidence in her step _'No matter the sin, no matter the sacrifice, our gods, the Children of Chaos, must never die.'_

 **Three nights later.**

 _Every day, I get a little closer_

 _And everything I'm made of, starts to melt to away_

 _I see the signs, but I can't quite make the words out_

 _All I want is to be near you_

 _ **(The Part that Hurts the Most, by Thousand Foot Krutch)**_

It was late, almost near dawn, the Open Hours had _finally_ come to a most welcome end, and yet Grimmjow tossed and turned repetitively around in the sheets, unable to sleep a wink. Although drained beyond measure with his new nocturnal schedule and experiences that he never knew to be real, his concern was at its highest peak - higher than usual anyways.

The former Arrancar, huffing irately, shifted one more time, finally settling to lie on his back before staring blankly at the ceiling, mind reeling.

It had been more than three nights now and still not a glimpse of either Ichigo or the other yet. The blue-haired feline had no idea where they were nor what was happening to them, despite him asking - near begging - to know if he could at least see them, even if it wasn't for long. He had been denied that, of course, making him even further on edge with every turndown given.

To make matters worse, it was like _everyone_ had somehow agreed on keeping him in the dark - the other dolls still committed on brushing him off at every occasion and the men in suits not bothering to acknowledge him unless it was to convey orders - except for a sole, stray rumour from one of the patrons he had been lucky enough to overhear.

On the second night, the patron in question had excitedly gossiped with another about being a witness to 'a parade of a black-haired beauty and a yummy young hottie'. _Her_ words, not his.

Nonetheless, she was probably, hopefully, talking about the Kuchiki and the kid. The rest of her words however made no sense to him. What on earth was a _parade_?

Not knowing what it had meant, the feline went to find Doll - or Gamine, or whatever the hell her name was - to ask her about it, as per their agreement. It was not easy task though - _finding_ her that is - between the dolls being disinclined to speak to him, and _Débauche_ being a labyrinth.

However, no sooner had he finished helping her out afterwards - she seemed to be quite fond of having him act as a bodyguard, this time getting him to watch over one doll in particular as she performed a dance routine, and prevent anyone from trying to get their paws on her as she was _just_ a dancer and nothing _else_ \- he had instantly regretted seeking her in the first place, hating and unable to bear what he had been told.

Apparently, a 'Parade' was term used for when new dolls were dragged around the mansion, leash, bound and gagged, for each and every patron to catch a glimpse, to know what was being offered. A simple truth, but a very distressing one...as it would undeniably draw all sorts of unwanted attention.

As such, to say he was simply anxious was an understatement. He was worried beyond belief.

If this was part of the punishment Aizen had in store, then Grimmjow was _definitely_ feeling it...

To make things worse, the feline's attempts to see the other two had the immortal interested. Again.

And the former Arrancar, in turn, _again_ , had to find a way to negate Aizen's assumptions, not because they were true, but because of what the child of chaos might do with this knowledge.

Previously, the former Espada - upon being confronted by the child of chaos with this matter the first time, back in Las Noches - had managed to 'convince' his former master that what he felt in regards for the young Shinigami Substitute were limited to 'caring out of mere loyalty' - in addition to upholding a few promises made.

For this time also, the blue-haired male made use of this argument yet again, even adding and admitting to the intrigue that had stemmed from an initial form of obsession towards the teen, something the immortal _himself_ had formerly pointed out...which was quite absurdly accurate.

But, just like before, even the blue-haired himself wasn't _that_ won over by his own reasoning.

Grimmjow cared far too much for Ichigo, and that was a firm truth he couldn't rid himself of, nor find the exact words to explain.

Leaving it all at that as he did not wish to make things more complicated, the former Arrancar forced his mind to wander, taking a darker path, in hopes of overlooking those odd sensations he had no clarification for, whenever his thoughts decided to spontaneously focus upon Ichigo.

In retrospect however, out of everything he could have turned his attentionto instead, thinking about _Débauche_ and these last nights was probably his worst decision yet.

Oddly enough, some of the many patrons that came over the days were surprisingly tolerable, either seeking swift release, or comfort and company. And, under different circumstances, the feline would have maybe found their encounters 'nice', their presence not that straining.

The _others_ however, alas, not so rare in number, were _not_ so agreeable. Truth in fact, they were _seriously_ deranged and vile, with the most sinful of desires and the sickest of demands.

Despite having met but a few of the like during these nights, Grimmjow had never thought that there'd ever be anyone just as bad as Aizen when it came to the domain of vilified sex.

In the space of nearly four nights - whether on the scene or behind closed doors - the former Arrancar had been forced to endure multiple forms of sadism, triolism (with dolls _and_ patrons alike), fetishes, and, worst of all - at least for the blue-haired - acting out upon demand certain fantasies - roleplay, or so they called it - for the patrons to watch and get off on what they saw.

Whatever the theme performed for the audience, the more believable it was, the better. And in all honesty, Grimmjow had been through too much already to feel any adulteration from this. But it was and stayed revolting all the same.

In addition to that, he had also unwillingly witnessed other dolls going through situations - affectionately baptized 'games' by the patrons - that were just as horrific.

One example, was having to see a couple of them being force-fed opulent quantities of cum through tubes shoved down their throats. And, after that part done, then being coerced to keep it down, until they threw it back up. The first one to give in to their gag reflex or disgust, lost the 'game', and was then to be mercilessly gangbanged by the other 'players' as a 'penalty'...

...Depraved. ...Perverse. ...Twisted.

He just couldn't figure out exactly _how_ their foul minds came up with these despicable ideas...

Humans, huh? They _sickened_ him.

Hollows, as such, could be seen as saints then. ...With some _very_ significant exceptions, aka Nnoitra. And the Luisebarne brothers. ...And quite a few others really. It was all grey, perhaps, in the end.

' _However, however,'_ the blue-haired feline's thoughts ventured even further along on their own _'Not_ _ **all**_ _humans are_ _ **that**_ _bad.'_

And he'd know. Ichigo Kurosaki and his entourage were a tad of them. ...And there Grimmjow was, thinking about the teenager _yet_ _again_. How obsessive of him. ...Damn, Aizen was right.

But back to his current train of thought, Ichigo and Co. were all somewhat decent in their own way, caring and self-sacrificing to a fault.

However the most surprising out of them all, at least in Grimmjow's opinion, to fit into this particular category, had been the young male's father, acting more foolishly human than the ex-shinigami he actually was. The former Arrancar had only actually spoken to Isshin Kurosaki once, when they were alone and out of hearing range, and the discussion had been...rather deep.

" _So, you're friends with Ichigo now?"_

 _Idly lost in his thoughts, Grimmjow was sitting alone late at night on the couch that was in the Kurosaki's lounge, when Ichigo's father decided to talk to him head-to-head for the first time._

 _As Kurosaki Isshin casually sat down next to the former Arrancar, two cups of warm coffee in each hand - of one which he offered to the blue-haired male - Grimmjow stiffened nervously, unsure how to proceed with the ex-shinigami. Especially given how the conversation started off, treading upon territory the feline saw as thinly fragile. For, though the Kurosaki father seemed to be - or just_ _ **was**_ _\- an idiot most of the time, he sure was protective of his young._

" _I wouldn't say that kind of sh-" began Grimmjow, before frowning, diplomatically accepting the mug whilst trying to keep his loose tongue in check "That's what the kid says, anyways."_

" _Is he right in saying so?"_

 _The blue-haired male's brow furrowed further: "I don't know. Honestly, I don't think he is."_

" _Why not?"_

" _ **Why**_ _?" echoed the former Arrancar in disbelief, double-checking to see if the ex-shinigami was actually serious, and the latter was "Hell, I was his_ _ **enemy**_ _. And, if that's not reason enough, when under Aizen's control, I nearly killed him_ _ **three**_ _times. Didn't even hold back."_

 _Rather than seem distressed by this admission laced with a thin yet heavy trace of guilt, Ichigo's dad watched the other closely, carefully taking in the other's every expression, every reaction: "But not because you_ _ **wanted**_ _to, right?"_

" _Kurosaki shouldn't trust me," muttered the feline inflexibly, forgetting his self-made promise to remain polite "And that's fuckin' final."_

" _Yet he really_ _ **does**_ _trust you," pointed out Isshin easily, whilst nodding smugly to himself, apparently seeing something in Grimmjow but the latter had no clue what, before the kid's old man shrugged "And if he does, that's good enough for me."_

" _So, just like that, you're going to let your son be friends with a fuckin' Hollow?" uttered the feline with pure incredulity, before he laughed out loud, the sound of it harsh and empty, blue eyes narrowed jeeringly "Are the Kurosaki always so naïve and trusting? Or is it just you and your son that ain't fuckin' right in the head?"_

" _Meh, I'm often told that mine isn't screwed on properly," noted Isshin abstractedly, making the other hide an amused grin, totally unsure whether to be amazed or appalled, while the ex-shinigami continued on nonchalantly "Besides, Ichigo has all sorts of friends that wouldn't be 'of the norm', according to most. You do know that Ishida Uryuu is a Quincy, yeah?"_

 _Sobering, the blue-haired male nodded. It_ _ **had**_ _occurred to him as quite strange for a Quincy and a Shinigami to be working, talking and walking together, but he had never asked about it._

" _It's real primitive to think that people can't change," pointed out Ichigo's father sagely, before he then locked a solemn stare with Grimmjow's "But in all seriousness, I mean it when I say that you're the best choice to be by Ichigo's side. At least, from here on out."_

 _This brought the feline to full attention, catching a hint of something resigned in the other's eyes, and it confused him, in addition to the man's words in themselves: "What do you mean?"_

" _You know Aizen Sosuke well enough,_ _Jeagerjaques,_ _" indicated the ex-shinigami openly, but with careful consideration to his tone and words "You should know where things are going."_

" _Yeah. He'll be out and free," whispered the blue-haired male, aggravated to admit this but unable to deny the inevitable "It's only a matter of time now."_

" _Exactly. Aizen Sosuke's constantly one step ahead. We will most likely not be ready. There will surely be many losses - on all sides - and, if his kind hasn't changed their ways, possible enslavement," uttered Isshin gravely, his expression dimming dark as he aversely envisaged the possibility of what would happen._

" _ **His**_ _ **kind**_ _?" realized Grimmjow abruptly, startled with his widened eyes staring at the man next to him "How do you-? Do you know what Aizen_ _ **really**_ _is?"_

 _At that, Ichigo's father grimaced, before directing an apologetic half-smile towards the feline, and then carried on talking, as if the former Arrancar had never asked him anything, causing the latter to frown faintly, but then chose to respect the other's silence. Everyone had secrets._

" _According to Urahara though, I can't afford to get involved or be caught, to which, in regards to our plan, I can only reluctantly agree. ...Although I really do wish there_ _ **was**_ _alternative."_

" _You have a plan?" inquired the feline slowly, surprise and scepticism lacing his voice whilst still looking at the ex-shinigami with vigilant intrigue "To do..._ _ **what**_ _exactly? Fight Aizen?"_

" _Counterattack him. When the time is right. When he'll let his guard down."_

" _Don't lie yourselves," whispered the former Espada, eyes lowered wearily "None of you can defeat Aizen. And the only one amongst you who could, no longer can."_

 _Timeworn brown eyes shone with mystery: "Oh, but you're wrong. On both points actually."_

" _So, what are you saying exactly? That Aizen_ _ **can**_ _be defeated? And that the kid will be getting his powers back?" countered Grimmjow cynically, before he snorted sceptically, shaking his head "Not to burst your fuckin' bubble, but I don't see either happening. No offence."_

 _Isshin steadily raised an eyebrow, slight mirth in his eyes: "Not very optimistic, are you?"_

" _Bite me," muttered the former Arrancar lightly, making the other grin a little, before the feline then asked tentatively "So, what are you asking of me exactly?"_

 _With sagging shoulders that suddenly appeared to be holding the weight of an entire world and, at his next words, they seemed to droop even lower "Watch over my son. Please, I beg you."_

 _Of all the things Grimmjow had been expecting to be requested, this wasn't one of them. And the blue-haired male didn't even bother to hide his aghast horror. ...Why the hell did everyone believe that Ichigo was safer with_ _ **him**_ _of all people? How did they come to that conclusion?_

" _ **You're**_ _his father._ _ **You**_ _should be taking him with you - if you're disappearing. Aizen Sosuke doesn't care that Kurosaki's a kid. He._ _ **Will**_ _. Hurt. Him," asserted the feline tellingly, unable to repress a shudder, before he stated bitterly "And there's very little I can do to change that."_

 _Isshin's features were now strained, if not slightly pained: "I know that. But Ichigo and I- We- Other than our father-son relationship not really being ideal, it's difficult for him to accept help from me. Ichigo doesn't like to trouble others with what plagues or worries him. Even less so those he cares about. You can tell him that you'll always be there for him, and he'd still never openly settle for your help. To Ichigo, it's his duty to protect, to save, not the other way round..."_

 _Grimmjow blinked. Well, the two elder Kurosaki members might not get along, but the father certainly knew his son._

 _It was true. Ichigo would rather help than be helped, save than be saved. It was in his nature._

 _But letting Aizen get a hold on Ichigo wasn't the best idea, even if the father hoped Grimmjow would somehow serve as some sort of protection. ...The former Espada wasn't convinced any longer that the ex-shinigami knew what the immortal was_ _ **truly**_ _capable of. And he wasn't sure if he should tell Isshin. Probably not._

 _Closing his eyes, the blue-haired male let out a low, quiet sigh, before eventually nodding stiffly: "I already made that promise twice. And I'll repeat what I told those I promised it to. I'll do what I can, but I sincerely can't do more than that."_

 _Those words were not lies, yet he meant every word. Grimmjow could_ _ **only**_ _do what he_ _ **could**_ _._

 _The former Arrancar watched as the kid's old man flashed a small but grateful smile, one the feline did not - and, much later, would still not - feel worthy of: "Thank you,_ _Jeagerjaques_ _."_

A sudden, curt knock at the door had the feline growling low in his throat, eyes flashing lethally.

Grimmjow genuinely didn't want _anyone_ from this place talking to him. Not now, not ever.

Not because he was acting all arrogant or the like, but because he had come to realization that _nobody_ here in _Débauche_ could be trusted.

The definite feeling hanging in the air amidst them all reminded him of the unvoiced essential the Espada - and essentially those from his herd - had decreed back then in the Hueco Mundo days, before and within Aizen's reign over them. Everyone for themselves.

Not only did they view anyone else as a threat to their existence, most of the dolls appeared to be entirely submissive to their maker's every word. And _that_ , never was a great helper, so...

The former Arrancar then backtracked as he unwittingly went and considered the Substitute Shinigami once again - only, this time, he didn't realize it, so he couldn't berate himself for it.

Maybe the teenwould have a different, if not, better effect on the other dolls? Ichigo tended to charm people without even trying or wanting to, naively so.

This small truth had the feline smiling softly - and sincerely - for the first time in days. And heck, he'll at least admit this one bit to himself. Grimmjow missed the kid. He really, truly did.

Whoever was at the door knocked again, with more insistence this time, irritating the feline. Concluding that they wouldn't leave until he manifested, Grimmjow swiftly threw himself off the bed, sheets falling in a rumpled mess to the floor, before he marched straight for the door.

Prying it open brusquely and ready to irately bark off at whoever, the blue-haired male halted dead in his tracks, his widening eyes quick to fall upon the odd picture painted before him.

Held firmly by the scruff of the collars at their necks by that blonde Twilight, were two other males, one with shoulder length, black glossy hair, and the other with short unruly spiked hair.

Despite their heads being lowered, which hid part of their faces from the feline, Grimmjow instantly identified the first to be the shinigami noble, but sincerely had to pause at the second male. He automatically had the feeling that it was the Kurosaki kid, but there was something _totally_ off. Where there was once vivid familiar orange hair was now hair of a warm reddish brown dye...

"Sure took your time," snorted the blonde male abruptly, fraudulent annoyance to his features, before he smirked with sinister amusement, tone contemptuous "And me who had brought you your _dear_ roommates."

And before the worried feline could say anything or react, Jugo tactlessly shoved the two right in - all while fluidly unfastening the collars so they stayed in his hands - with the young male falling to his knees, hissing in pain, whereas the noble dropped straight to the ground, totally inert and silent, like a deadweight.

Grimmjow didn't waste a second to hurriedly dive down to their side, no longer bothering to conceal his worry, already reaching out to comfort and check on them. But he sharply made himself halt inches away from coming in contact with them, hands stilling midway, freezing.

Given what he was witnessing, the former Arrancar didn't think it wise to touch them. Not without knowing what the two had been through these past days. And by the looks of it, they hadn't been doused with mercy or kindness.

Although outwardly seeming to be in one piece upon first glance, the two looked entirely and utterly defeated, crushed, with their heads _still_ hung low, their upper features hooded by their bangs, figures stiff, shoulders drooped and enclosed around themselves, a fragile-made shell.

 _Not at all_ a good sign.

Relief had flooded within him in an immediate rush as he finally got to see the pair for the first time in days, something he had been desperate to see happen. However, that sweet feeling was now far gone, replaced with a growing level of stifling anxiety.

The feline's trepidation was especially high when he tentatively neared the teen - like drawing close to a wounded deer - as he carefully checked the other over whilst seeking the latter's gaze, his quiet voice coming out forcibly strong to mask his increasing panic: "You ok, kid?"

After jumping slightly at being addressed, as if not expecting to hear Grimmjow, the young male remained still and silent, but then their eyes met, brusquely, and the former Arrancar had to do what he could to hold back whatever emotion had threatened to flicker across his features.

Right now, as widened blue eyes locked with familiar - and yet not so familiar - brown ones, the feline wasn't sure what to feel anyway.

"I'm trying to be," whispered Ichigo in turn after a moment with a small smile, appearing to be somewhat relieved to see the blue-haired male again. But the latter didn't notice the smile.

The former Espada was too focused, too fixated, too fearful over what he was seeing in the Shinigami Substitute's eyes.

Though no longer shining brightly, the flame in those young, warm brown eyes of his was firmly, miraculously still there. But it was fairly hardened, a tad darkened.

And Grimmjow found himself caught somewhere between reassured and terribly concerned, wondering what the other could have possibly gone through for his eyes to look like _that_.

For the flame to still be alive meant that the fight and resolve specific to the teen were not gone, but the faint swirl of darkness currently present, now that, Grimmjow did not like...It had to go. Fast.

"And him?" asked the blue-haired feline worriedly, finding his voice again as he nodded in the noble's direction, the latter _still_ in a motionless heap on the floor ever since he had been pushed in by the blonde.

A poignant pain flashed across the teenager's features, but just before he could say anything, Jugo's conceited voice, spiteful and mocking, cut him to it: "Not to worry. Candy boy's just breaking down. _Hard_."

As Ichigo shuddered before scowling at the blonde and Grimmjow growled low in his throat, the Kuchiki noble's voice rose, his incensed tone of lethal ice as he shifted up, with difficulty: "I am _not_. I do not have the luxury for a breakdown."

Both the teen and the feline stared at the dark-haired male with a rushed mixture of emotions, whilst the shinigami glared at the Twilight from underneath a curtain of darkness, dimming his already deadly, black look filled with an incredible, bottomless loathing.

Only, the blonde male didn't appear to be intimidated in the least, smirking down snidely at the noble, cruel, sarcastic scorn to his words: "Smart way of going about it, I'd say. You'll have _all_ the time in the world for a breakdown _afterwards_ , candy boy. I mean, you didn't _even_ get fucked properly **(4)**. _Yet_."

While the Shinigami Substitute tensed nervously, the former Espada felt worried all over again. What on earth did the Twilight mean by _that_? What the hell had they done to them?

Livid grey eyes narrowed as the 6th Division's captain seethed quietly, refusing to respond the cutthroat tongue that purposefully provoked, which led Jugo to chuckle condescendingly as he made to leave, throwing out one last taunt before he shut the door: "Tomorrow will be your first night in front of the patrons, Zakura, Hero-chi. Do try to be in shape."

With the Twilight gone, an eerily, uneasy and tense silence instilled itself between them three.

None of them moved from where they were, still upon the floor, not too far from the entrance.

Grimmjow had no clue what they had been through - well, he did have, unfortunately, a few rather obvious and obscure ideas - and honestly didn't wish to make things worse for them. And so far, even though brown and grey eyes were averted, it was palpable that the feline's state of dress was slightly bothering them - the former Espada was only wearing a pair of light trousers.

Licking his lips nervously, the blue-haired male hence pragmatically chose to keep his distance, giving them some space as he carefully stood up and moved to sit on the edge of the large bed.

No one dared to utter a single word at first, until the quiet became to unbearable and stifling to bear anymore, notably in the Kuchiki noble's case, as he wished - _badly_ needed - to be alone.

"Is- Is there...a bath in here?" asked Byakuya in a whisper, evidently addressing Grimmjow.

"That door," answered the feline, pointing over at a single door in the back, before witnessing the dark-haired promptly get up and make a beeline for it, curtly slamming the door behind him.

"Pretty boy's _definitely_ not well," remarked the former Arrancar, mostly speaking to himself.

The young male however had heard him. And he wholeheartedly agreed. Byakuya was not ok. "No. No, he's not," whispered the teenager, locking weary eyes with blue ones.

With what happened, the opposite would have been terrifyingly unnatural. But still, seeing the great Gotei 13 captain, as well as Kuchiki Clan's leader, in such a state was unspeakably horrid. Especially, as the dark-haired male's mistreatment had been far more oppressive and cruel than his own. The bias was totally unfair and uncalled for.

And Ichigo hated it. _Really_ hated it. Hated more that he was incapable of changing the noble's situation. ...Or couldn't he?

Inside, after locking himself in with shaky hands, the dark-haired noble had taken a moment to breathe, before numbly, tiredly directing himself over to the sink, inadvertently glancing up at his reflection in the mirror in front of him. And then froze, when he saw the shadow of a ghost staring right back at him.

The mirror image before him was not Kuchiki Byakuya. He...didn't know _who_ it was.

Ashen, sallow near lucent skin, dimmed and dark-rimmed drained eyes, the faded - and fading - Kuchiki noble was downright _sickened_ by what he saw. And couldn't look away from.

A haggard face on the verge of embracing defeat with open arms. ...He _was_ breaking down, self-made promises to not lose himself and unravel were slowly, but steadily, crumbling to dust.

Without another thought, Byakuya, breath and calm leaving him, dashed over to the lavatory and, bending over, hurled out his bleeding soul, heaving and desperate to purge himself from the inside out. Rickety legs unable to keep him upright after a moment, he gradually sank to his knees, his sides eventually aching from trying to further retch up what his stomach no longer contained.

He felt filthy. No. More than that. Was there any worse than feeling this dirty, disgraceful and despicable? ...Rotten?

Demoralized, the noble wanted to shake his head at himself. He was so distraught and shaken that he was running out of vocabulary words. However, 'rotten' felt perfect right now.

Actually, no. He felt...vivisected. There we go, that's the one. It was as though someone - some one _s_ \- had cut him open via scalpel, digging into his flesh, uninvited, with the pain only coming alive as the blade dug in deeper and deeper, reaching for his core and ruining it black with filth, by forcing him to endure revolting sensations he did not want, and could do very well without.

Wiping at his mouth with back of a trembling hand, the dark-haired male unsteadily got to his feet, flushing the toilet without paying any attention to what he was doing.

Byakuya was now on autopilot, barely aware, and before he could actually think things through, he was already standing in the running shower, having stripped himself with such ease, that made him sick all over again - but he was quick to reel it in, the aching having yet to subside.

As tepid water touched his cold skin but didn't warm him, Byakuya numbly reached down to pick up the first bar of soap in front of him, but before he got to touch it, he caught sight of a plastic label stapled upon the compartment which contained the cleanser. It spelled ' _Pantera'_.

Recoiling as if he had been burned, widened grey eyes took in only now that there were three small compartments, stacked on top of each other and each with a label holding the tags that had been so lovingly bestowed upon them. There was ' _Pantera'_ , ' _Shujinkou'_ and _Zakura'_.

Ah. There he was. Lower than low.

Numb all over again whilst bending over to pick up the soap and shampoo designated for him as a doll, the Kuchiki noble then froze for the second time since he had entered the bath.

The fragrance - for both of what was labelled to him - was lavender.

The scent that Aizen had _decided_ would be Byakuya's ever since the latter and the other two had first set a foot here in _Débauche_. The noble had once enjoyed the sweet scent. Not anymore.

...Could the noble truly no longer make any choices that were his own? Were there no limits to how much control was swiftly slipping through his fingers?

If this hell were to carry on, he'd no longer be a person. No longer a name. No longer...anyone.

As he washed himself off, Byakuya was silent, trying not to drop down again and crack under the weight of the heavy humiliation and denigration he had endured ever since the Other War.

And crueller still, within these past four nights.

As the Twilights had finally let him and the other step away from where they had been kept, the 6th Division's captain had decided to forget, to block it all out, to find a way to move on...

 _But_. Byakuya could still hear their slanders ringing in hot, resenting breaths against his ears, whispering words he couldn't get out of his head.

He could still feel their sickly sweet touch sadistically pervading him every inch of him, skin and soul, violating him in ways he'd never imagined possible.

And _yet_ , holding back just enough...so the patrons could later in time do _even_ _ **worse**_.

If this was how he felt with but four nights, lost in a haze of sore pleasure and pain, what would a longer length of time here ensure to him? Make him entirely dead and hollow inside? When he was already _this_ uncomfortably numb?

The Kuchiki noble knew where he stood, and was well aware what had led him to be here. But, as loathe as he was to admit it, he needed more than that knowledge. It wasn't enough, not when he had surrendered and was sacrificing so much. He needed solace, _something_. Desperately.

When still hidden in plain sight as a mentor to the Seireitei, Aizen Sosuke had once said that it was better to die on the battlefield than be taken a captive by an enemy. And Byakuya hadn't thought much about those words then. Only now, they made perfect sense, if _this_ , this hell, this nightmare, this torment, this suffering, this torture, this shame were all to be a captive's life...

Such thoughts accidently reminded him of a conversation he had had with the child of chaos, his accursed captor - and now abhorred owner - who taken him aside on the second night here.

 _The child of chaos was chuckling, relishing in the absolute horror painted across the Kuchiki's features. He had just shown the noble a rather distressing footage and he knew, without a doubt that the 6th Division's captain would_ _ **never**_ _ever dare set a foot outside of Débauche's grounds. And that, as long as the silver bracelet remained enclosed around the Kuchiki noble's wrist..._

" _That aside, my dear Byakuya. Are the Twilights treating you well? Do tell."_

 _Mentioning his current tormentors seemed to snap the dark-haired male out of his stupor: "Shouldn't you be asking instead if they're_ _torturing_ _me well, Aizen-sama?"_

 _Aizen smirked at this, knowing that the retort was a meaningless attempt to aggravate him. Only, he'd have to admit that the Kuchiki's response was rather adequate. Byakuya knew that the immortal was already aware of what the Twilights were doing. And understandably so, since Aizen was the one who ordered for the 'training' to take place._

" _That_ _ **would**_ _be more accurate indeed. Your wellbeing is the least of everyone's concern here, the Twilights' especially," stated the child of chaos loftily, his next words scornfully cruel and meant to lash out at the other's diminishing dignity "I hear that they are rather thrilled to play with you. They_ _ **love**_ _how you writhe in horrified discomfort and distressed humiliation. A true sight to behold, I'm sure."_

" _Am I simply here for you to twist the knife deeper?" whispered the dark-haired shinigami emptily, drained eyes closing in indignant mortification, while the other's smirk just widened._

" _Always," drawled out Aizen darkly, beyond amused "True, however. You are here before me for another reason, my dear."_

 _With growing nervousness, the 6th Division's captain kept his eyes tight shut, his voice unable to mask his wearing dread by using his previous show of indifference: "...Which is?"_

 _Only, the Kuchiki was not looking forward to know. The child of chaos had once told him that the latter would have to, at some point, satisfy Aizen's own depraved desires._

 _...Was that going to happen now? If it was, the 6th Division's captain was not ready. Not at all._

 _With closed eyes, the noble completely missed the immortal's sadistic expression: "I have but a simple question for you, my dear Byakuya. Would you like your suffering to come to an end?"_

 _Here, Byakuya's eyes snapped open again, instantaneously narrowed with seething scepticism at the smirking immortal: "In exchange for_ _ **what**_ _? To suffer by_ _ **your**_ _hand as an alternative? I'm afraid I'm not that kind of fool. Aizen-sama."_

 _Rather than be affronted, Aizen simply chuckled mysteriously, dark brown eyes glittering with a sinister shine: "I_ _ **have**_ _told you already, dear Byakuya, you'll derive far more pleasure than pain if you simply. Give in. To me. Give_ _ **all**_ _of yourself to me._ _Entirely_ _. And you'll no longer have to go through all of what you endure anymore. You'll be...free."_

 _Expression unreadable Byakuya remained silent, as he cast a glance at the monster that had once hid in plain sight within the Seireitei, the noble's grey eyes evaluating, warily reflective._

 _It had stated more times than he could count, but apparently, Aizen could not lie. Nevertheless, the immortal's astute ability to play around with words and twist them to his advantage was something to fear and never take for granted._

' _Give in and be free.'_

 _Though rather unsure as to what the other was_ _ **truly**_ _asking for, he had considered it before. What a sweet relief it would be to just stop struggling. All the Kuchiki had to do was succumb to the immortal and whatever the latter's designs were, for the rest of the noble's existence._

 _To give in, and never once look back. Ever again._

 _ **But**_ _, to fully stop struggling meant discarding his free will. It was the only thing that kept him unbroken, kept him sane... The only thing that still belonged to him, that Byakuya had left, for Aizen had truly taken everything else. And he had_ _ **not**_ _given all what he held dear for whatever the immortal had in mind for him now. The Kuchiki briefly remembered Grimmjow telling him something like that, where the child of chaos would make it so that Byakuya would lose it all, would lose everything. Therefore, the shinigami captain needed to at least, for his own good, cling onto his free will, his willpower. And the noble could only fiercely agree._

 _Determination flaring, he decided that he would never ever lose his own will. Even if he had surrendered and submitted his body, he would not give up himself, nor his mind, nor his soul._

 _The Kuchiki noble would protect his soul to the very end... No matter how demanding or how painful and demeaning it was going to be._

 _Closing his eyes once more as he took a deep breath, Byakuya then locked austere eyes with the immortal, tone strong and firm, adamant on not betraying the wreck of emotions he was: "I refuse."_

 _For a moment, the Kuchiki was expecting the other to be taken aback, which would have been an instant of short but significant triumph for the noble. Only, for some terrifying reason, it appeared that Aizen had been_ _ **expecting**_ _that very answer._

" _Oh?" uttered the child of chaos blithely, slickly feigning surprise, when that ominous glitter sinisterly shone even brighter than before "Could it be that you actually_ _ **enjoy**_ _the disgrace and dishonour of the humiliation you're being put through? My, my. Are you a masochist, Zakura?"_

" _Please do not distort my words, Aizen-sama," said the captive noble through clenched teeth, coercing himself to remain calm, both from bursting out and crashing down "I have merely stated my refusal to abide by your...proposition. And nothing but."_

 _For a moment, Aizen didn't say a thing, dark brown eyes on Byakuya, judging him, dissecting him, and the noble, standing still and stiff, felt as though he was an open book to the immortal yet again, from whom he could hide absolutely nothing. The other could alas read him too well._

 _The child of chaos eventually freed the other from the grasp of his penetrating, piercing gaze as he lowered them to whatever documents rested before him upon the desk he sat behind, his voice light, eerily betraying nothing: "Well, if that's what you wish for, how could I deny it?"_

 _Unsettling, oppressive silence rose, and the Kuchiki noble wanted to get out of there. Quickly._

" _If I may take my leave, Aizen-sama..."_

" _By all means, my dear."_

By now, Byakuya had sunk down in the tub, head rested on the tiles - a few damp, dark locks plastered upon them - as he stared up absently at the ceiling, the water still running and long forgotten.

As admirable as his resolve had been then when facing to Aizen that one time, it had took but two more nights for the shinigami captain to have lost sight of that particular moment. What would _more_ nights in this forsaken place do to him? How long would it take for him to lose it _completely_? ...How much time did he have left to be himself?

Blinking as he glanced down and finally noticed that the once limpid water was tinged with red, he came to see that he had been unconsciously scratching at his skin with his own nails, as if to scrub it off, scrap it clean of the vilification and start anew, all fresh with a new skin wrapper.

Nauseated, Byakuya shuddered at how horrific and depressed his thoughts were progressively becoming. Hadn't he _already_ lost himself?

And yet. _And yet_. This deliciously desperate pain was his own infliction. Despite the cage of a body he wore which healed with each wound, this bleeding pain was _his_ doing. No one else's. It was something that _he_ could start and stop. A sliver of control, a brief moment of deliverance, in a swirling haze of constraints. It was...liberating. If only but a little.

Because, in all honesty, his original coping method - the blanking - was _not_ helping him. Not here. Not now.

And probably never again.

As he eyed the blood seeping from his self-inflicted injuries, this was how, in the end, that the Kuchiki decided that he would rather gladly deal with _his_ pain than _their_ pleasure. At least pain allowed him, aided him, to remember where he essentially stemmed from, to keep in mind that _he_ had control over _his_ own life, to recall the wrongness in this unfortunate set of circumstances within this shameless lust-imbued and defiling prison, where pleasure was utterly unforgivable.

Byakuya refused to enjoy _anything_ that was happening or being done to him. He categorically _refused_ it. He needed not pleasure if it only served to cloud his reason and senses.

...Pleasure. The sheer horror of enduring it when against one's will, in far too deep to pull away. It only enforced the depravity of it.

 _Hands languidly tracked along his bare skin, slick with a sheen of sweat, touching down over undisclosed areas and within hidden corners that drew intense, pleasurable shivers from him._

' _Don't touch me.'_

 _A precise silicone copy of a male's anatomy - a dildo, he learned it was called - smoothly thrust in and out of him with a slow, steady pace, stimulating him from within, and working in tandem with a firm friction of an expert touch to his aroused length, his body arching back in response._

' _Make it stop.'_

 _He cried out softly, brought to his peak, blown away and soaring high to graze a heavenly bliss he never knew of. And, in awareness of the aftermath, wished he never had been made to feel._

' _Kill me now.'_

Glazed eyes wide and breath erratic, the dark-haired male's empty stomach lurched violently, so he hurriedly stifled the ascending nausea, gritting his teeth as he lowered his head, dripping damp hair smoothly following the curt movement. ...He _really_ didn't need to recall any of that. But then again, since he was on said subject...

How _could he_ have even felt pleasure with what was being done to him, against his will? How _could he_ have attained a climax, time and time again?

Good God. ...Was he actually becoming a-? NO. _No_. No, he wasn't one. ...He wouldn't be.

Eyes clenched closed, Byakuya bit his lip, hard, drawing blood, drawing more blood as he dug his nails in his arm again, drawing himself away, far away from the sense of shame and self-loathing.

He _was_ stronger than this, so he would NOT break. He would _not_ break. ...He would not break.

The noble shuddered for the umpteenth time. Apart from his own resolute and reprimanding voice ringing in his head, he had absolutely no warranty to what he was convincing himself of.

 _To think of all the nights I've had_

 _I shut tightly, I shut down_

 _Won't be that much longer now_

 _In the quiet, in the dark_

 _All my ideals fall apart_

 _ **(Think I'm Sick, by Icon for Hire)**_

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Back within the room, Ichigo, having inadvertently heard Byakuya's little expelling session, was forcing himself to remain where he was, rather than rush off to go join the Kuchiki noble.

Though terribly worried, the young male was neither ignorant nor meddlesome. He knew that Byakuya _required_ a moment of privacy. And trespassing upon it would not be welcomed, even if it was with benevolent intentions, such as comfort and/or support - which, in all honesty, were very much needed by the three of them right now, regardless of them saying otherwise...

So, the teenager would simply have to check on the other later, that's all. Whenever the noble _was_ ready. If he'd _ever_ be ready at all for the prospect of _opening up_. Not that the Shinigami Substitute would fault him if he didn't. Ichigo was no better when it came to that either. Figures.

He and Grimmjow glanced at each other when they heard the water running, but stayed silent.

Needing to distract himself also from worrying about the shinigami captain, the feline focused on the teen and watched in silence as the other slowly began looking around at his surroundings.

The ample room in itself wasn't too eccentric or extravagant, but it wasn't bare or plain either. Furnished just right, on one side was a sizable couch of beige leather with white and maroon cushions, a couple of bookshelves and cabinets, a TV set and some other stuff, all laid out upon woven multi-coloured tapestries and flocculent carpets. On the other side, under a decorated lamp, was a large, lush bed - apparently intended for more than two people - with bedside tables and three individual dressers on a side. It was cosy enough - with an overall air which Ichigo could only describe, and would later mention, to likely, and vaguely, be inspired by an Oriental dye and design.

Concern making a little room for confusion, Ichigo's brow furrowed. Why did the room look too good to be true? ...Was it fake?

Recalling the immortal's ability, the teenager, standing and carefully walking around, couldn't help but tentatively poke and prod around him...testing to see that he wasn't stuck in an illusion.

In a way, the former Arrancar could understand the young male's disbelief, having reacted in a similar manner when he was first brought to this room.

Given that Aizen generally acted superior and averse towards Mankind, the room was bizarrely conventional, too suspiciously in association with humanity - as if it'd all vanish if anyone dared to blink too long, before then turning into an empty, white room they were so well accustomed to, like those of Las Noches. For here too, the walls, though holding but a few paintings, had no windows. Just another prison. A truth no amount of décor could change...

"Pantera?"

Grimmjow almost didn't respond. It was _so_ _strange_ to hear the teenager call him by his 'tag'.

The blue-haired inwardly cringed, deciding that he did _**not**_ like that name on Ichigo's lips.

Mind wandering distractedly, the blue-haired male suddenly found himself recalling their time back in Las Noches, when the former Espada had to stop the teenager every time from saying his name aloud, as they unwillingly but slowly f-

HOLD IT, hold it, hold it. What the _freaking_ **hell** was he thinking?!

Grimmjow was _so_ grateful that the other wasn't facing him just yet, because he was pretty damn sure that his face was drenched green with horror. ...What the bloody hell was wrong with him?

 _Why_ was he remembering _**this**_ specifically?! At this time?! In this place?! Holy hell, he should _**NOT**_ be thinking about this **(5)**! AT ALL!

" _Hello_? ...Grimmjow?"

' _Fuck, fuck, FUCK. Curse and fuckin'_ _ **damn**_ _ **you**_ _Aizen!'_ swore the feline interiorly, features now burning bright red with indignation and embarrassment as he tried to regain his composure "Hm?"

Turning towards the other to give him his attention, the blue-haired male saw the teen staring at him as though Grimmjow looked like he had gone crazy. ...He probably most certainly had.

Bewildered brown eyes blinked, concern now within them: "...Are you alright, Grimmjow?"

' _Nope. I'm crazy, remember?'_ thought the former Espada, berating himself, before he addressed the other, tone now regulated: "I'm fine. I really am, kid. Just a little fuckin' bushed, that's all."

Swift to divert the conversation away from himself, both out of discomfort and at the occasion to check on the other, the feline then raised an eyebrow as he eyed the teenager, voice careful: "But really, kid, that should be my fuckin' line to _you_ , don't you think?"

Eerily enough, Ichigo's usually expressive features went downright deadpan, showing nothing: "I'm not the one who was on their own."

"I'm _used_ to it."

The young male didn't say anything at first, before he then nodded soberly: "I guess you are."

A thin blue eyebrow rose slowly: "Not what I meant, kid. I'm not the one to be _worried_ _ **about**_."

"Me neither, Grimmjow," drawled out Ichigo offhandedly, shrugging calmly, way too calmly for the former Arrancar's comfort, immediately suspicious.

" _Kurosaki_."

The look of pure scepticism upon the other's fretful features blatantly told Ichigo that the feline wasn't buying what he was so firmly telling. He was faintly annoyed that Grimmjow was seeing through the tough shell he was hiding behind, but he wasn't going to admit to what the other wanted him to say. ...Because if he admitted it to the other, than he'd be admitting it to himself.

The young male was used to resolving most of his problems - his anger, his anguish, his alarm - with finality, either via a beat down or by simply shying away from that which endorsed the issue in itself. Not being able to, was a severe and real handicap for him...

The Shinigami Substitute honestly didn't mind the other's company or his concern - which was quite touching and heartily welcome - but he _really_ couldn't allow himself to be mollycoddled.

Grimmjow had lost _everything_ , just to stand by his side. And Byakuya was steadily drowning. ...No pun intended.

Inwardly nodding to himself, Ichigo decided not be a burden for the other two - they had _enough_ on their minds. Worrying them further would be unfair. He'd be strong. The teen just _had to_ be.

"I'm _fine_ ," insisted Ichigo, using a smile that was too painfully ersatz to witness "I really am."

Closing his eyes, Grimmjow, brow furrowed as if suffering from a headache, sighed heavily. The former Arrancar wasn't asking _directly_ if the teen _was_ alright, because he knew that Ichigo was _far_ from it. One, because the feline was, alas, well aware of the immortal's ways. Two, having been a close witness to the teenager feeling low before, the blue-haired male now could relatively tell when the other wasn't well. Which was currently the case.

Regardless of what Isshin Kurosaki had told him about his son, the Shinigami Substitute wasn't really the type of individual to openly _tell_ others how _he_ felt in certain situations. Although kind-hearted to a fault and more than ready to listen, Ichigo will be willing to offer comfort but not _ask_ for comfort, despite not downright refusing it when it magnanimously came along.

But right now, alarmingly enough, the teenager _wasn't_ letting him. And this, even though Ichigo himself had requested Grimmjow to be there for him through these...excruciating endeavours.

Ichigo was _sixteen_ , damn it. Mature in so many ways, yeah. But. Not. For. _This_.

Hence, brushing off an issue - _this_ issue - that _mattered_ , was not going to work with the feline.

"And I'm not a fuckin' idiot, kid. You can't _be fine_."

"Can't I?" countered the young male defiantly, scowling hard, his frame rigid.

Irritated, Grimmjow snapped back just as firmly: "No, you _can't_ , Kurosaki. No fuckin' way."

Features harshening further, the young male, needing an outlet, _needing_ to lash out, was about to throw another comeback, but the former Espada carried on talking: " _I_ wasn't. ...I'm still not."

The hard tautness in Ichigo's expression eased up a bit, letting surprise escape from it: "No?"

A wry smile then touched the other's lips: "What the fuck do you think? That I'm unbreakable?"

Ichigo was about say that was _exactly_ what he believed - at least, when compared to himself - when he all of a sudden found familiarity in their conversation, bringing back a certain memory.

" _How did you not break?" had once asked the orange-haired teen with concern, as he tried to imagine how suffering of such an existence would take toll on his friends, his family..._ _himself_ _..._

" _Who says I'm not broken?" had responded the other softly, shaking his head when Ichigo had stared at him wide-eyed "I've learnt how to pretend...not fuckin' necessarily how to cope."_ **(6)**

The teenager bit his lip sheepishly, blushing faintly, embarrassed. He had nearly forgotten about that discussion, and everything that it had entailed it.

Clearly, Grimmjow hadn't. He was currently keeping his end of the deal. Watching over Ichigo.

"Believe me, I'm not," confessed the feline quietly, feeling suddenly very disconnected, drained as he idly ran his hand through his hair and left his fingers tangled in there "No one is."

A beat of silence fell, the levied quiet by disrupted only by running water and steady breathing.

"No one," said Ichigo, echoing the other's words, before his tone tensed "...Not even Aizen?"

A faint trace of despair poisoned the teenager's voice, and Grimmjow just thoughtlessly wanted to reach out and squander all of Ichigo's worries to dust and naught. ...If only it were that easy.

Too many were expecting him to be the kid's shield, his pillar, his protector...but he didn't have that kind of power...not with the immortal tightly holding their strings from behind the scenes.

"I fuckin' hope not," muttered the former Espada, in an attempt to sound partial but not dismal.

"It sure _looks_ like he's invincible though," whispered the young male, shivering, before he tilted his head, gaze narrowing with a reflective air to them "Doesn't he even _have_ any weaknesses?"

The former Espada honestly, _really_ didn't like that look now in the Shinigami Substitute's eye. Frighteningly, Grimmjow had a hunch as to why this query was suddenly on the teen's mind.

Ichigo was, somehow, faulting himself for what was happening to him, to them...to everyone. And he was hoping to redeem himself, if he could defeat the child of chaos. Just one more time.

The feline frowned, wary, worried. Regardless of the fact that the other shouldn't be filling his head with altruistic hero-martyr gobbledygook, the young male should _not_ be blaming himself. If anything, that was something the _shinigami_ should be feeling, for not foreseeing where Aizen stood _before_ he could go and make a stand that led to them all to this mess.

Nevertheless, the kid _really_ needed to stop shouldering everything. He was not Gaia, damn it.

"I truly don't know. Nor do I fuckin' _care_ , Kurosaki. I'm worried about _you_ ," declared the blue-haired male loud and clear, expression set and sincere, making Ichigo's eyes widen, lips parted in shock "Don't. Fuckin'. _Lie_. To Me. When it's _all_ over your face. You _ain't_ fuckin' alright. Not you, not pretty boy. Cut the bullshit."

There. _Now_ the feline had given a clear-cut fact on the matter at hand. ...Would that help any?

Too taken aback and affected, the young male couldn't utter a word at first. However, when he managed to gather his bearings, defiance had left him, and, for a moment, so did his shields.

Wrapping his arms defensively around himself, the teenager glanced away, features distraught, his brittle voice a near inaudible murmur: "I don't want to talk about it, Grimmjow. ... _Please_."

Freezing, the feline's aghast heart wrenched itself out of its spot and violently plummeted down.

...Ouch. The former Arrancar had been apprehensive to hear the Shinigami Substitute say _that_. It meant that it was actually worse than he had imagined it. And he didn't dare imagine more.

A burning, seething fire surged within Grimmjow, now sporting a level of loathing for Aizen - and all those associated to him in any way - he had never experienced before... _Screw them all_.

"Now, _that's_ a fuckin' answer," uttered the feline with an aggrieved air, dragging a hand over his face, before he took in a deep breath, locking eyes with the other from through his fingers "You'll remember that I'm here, right? Whenever, I'll listen, kid. I promised to."

Genuinely soothed and relieved, the teen hadn't realized that it had mattered to him so much to hear such words, his features softening as his struggle and strain faded from them just a little. But it was enough to briefly let go of that consuming belligerent guilt eating at him from within.

"I won't forget," whispered Ichigo warmly, grateful and meaning every word "Thank you."

"Sure," murmured the former Espada, before he ruefully looked away, a sudden sense of deeper depression washing over him _'I'm fuckin' sorry that that's all I can do for you right now, kid.'_

Bothered by the obvious pressure the other was under over him, Ichigo quietly contemplated the feline, before slowly directing himself over to sit upon the bed - not too far from Grimmjow - wishing to comfort the blue-haired male somehow but not entirely sure how to proceed.

Baring in mind all their interactions until now and recalling that the feline wasn't at all adverse to touch like the noble was, the Shinigami Substitute very tentatively, gingerly reached out, his hand travelling slow across the sheets, until his knuckles brushed lightly against the other's leg.

When he saw that the former Arrancar didn't react negatively to the contact - simply locking curious eyes with the teenager's - Ichigo took it upon himself to pat gently at the other's knee, with a small reassuring smile. ...At least, he _hoped_ that's what it looked like. It felt a tad wobbly.

Grimmjow blinked. ...Shouldn't this moment be in reverse? Wasn't _he_ supposed to be calming the teen? Not that he didn't appreciate the gesture though, which he conveyed to the other with a dip of his head, making the teen's smile widen a bit.

The two of them then lapsed into a faintly more comfortable silence, mind wandering, escaping, fleeing, the teenager's hand staying on the feline's lap, the latter not once making it vamoose.

However, neither had the courage to ask one another what they had to go through, despite truly wishing to know if they were all still somewhat salvageable from being permanently damaged.

Hence, the feline judiciously, considerately skirted around that discerned yet rather delicate topic, opting for a safer route to converse upon. Small talk.

"So," began the feline lightly, faint curiosity to his features as he gestured to the teenager's dye with his chin "What's with the colour?"

The former Arrancar immediately knew that that had been a wrong thing to ask, when Ichigo's shoulders sagged, his expression turning sour.

The blue-haired male grimaced. It didn't take a genius to figure _who_ had done this to the teen.

"I _hate_ it," confided the young male in a strained whisper, breathing all of a sudden strenuous whilst he clutched his eyes closed "It's _not_ me. _None_ of this is me. There are too many changes, Grimmjow, I- I can't keep up. ...I'm losing track."

Silent, the former Espada's heart clenched painfully at the sight of the other on the very verge of hyperventilating, no longer able to keep up that brave façade and claim that he was alright. Ichigo was far from alright. All three of them were.

Brown eyes snapped open wide as warmth suddenly touched his skin, and, glancing down, he saw that the other's strong, calloused hand was now gently holding his own - the one set upon Grimmjow's lap - rubbing his thumb smoothly over the teenager's knuckles.

The young male regarded the blue-haired male questioningly but the latter didn't say anything, merely keeping his gaze fixated on their joint hands, not once stopping his soothing gesture.

At first, the Shinigami Substitute was too stunned for words, yet, after a moment, he felt himself relax in the other's reassuring touch, not once thinking of retrieving his hand from the contact.

"I'll be honest, Kurosaki," started off the feline carefully once the other seemed lulled enough, his tone solemn and blunt, but entirely sincere "I'm not sure that we can get out of here. At least, not any time _soon_. So, for now, enduring and learning - surviving - this fuckin' shithole is a priority. A must. For all three of us. Before I tell you anything else, do you agree to that?"

Ichigo almost smiled. The blue-haired male was _all_ about survival, wasn't he? Well, obviously. Grimmjow was _still_ breathing after all this time, despite all the dangers flung along his path.

The young male supposed it was in the former Arrancar's instincts or something. But rather than ask about it, the teen wordlessly nodded instead, readily waiting for the other to continue...

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Aizen stood quietly by the window, staring out at the grounds of his acreage, mind preoccupied.

It had been approximately three days since the incident that had occurred down in the basement - or what was affectionately called by the dolls as Doll's Graveyard, which was quite accurately fitting - and they were still no repercussions from Mr Wile.

The immortal had thought long and hard about the convoluted issue at hand and, quite honestly, didn't know how to solve this unpleasant issue, without some sort of costly compromise, one which would be more than costly enough to appease the other's most likely indignant ire.

Knowing Mr Wile, the latter would want to see some punishment take place. But Aizen simply couldn't let the other make _Doll_ pay, which was undoubtedly what the man would want anyway.

Sighing heavily and closing his eyes, the concerned child of chaos smiled wistfully to himself.

Ah. Sweet, sweet Naruka, and the trouble she'd always get herself in. And drag him along into.

 _Not too long after his little 'argument' with Manter, Aizen had carefully pulled away from the still sleeping Doll, before heading over to the desk to occupy himself. He needed to calm down._

 _Barely minutes after his departure however, the magenta-haired girl stirred, rubbing her eyes cutely before glancing around, blinking confusedly, when magenta eyes then locked with brown._

 _Doll stared and stared, and then, flashes of memories, of what happened, came flooding back. Blushing crimson red, colouring her features between fluster and fury, she wished she could just crawl in a hole and die...whilst also wanting to commit bloody murder, and bury the body. Either way, digging at the earth was going to be undoubtedly involved._

 _She cringed. Her mind relentlessly hurtled at her random rambles during her oh-so lovely hangover. Murder was still appealing, though. And the very first person she had considered murdering would have been Sosuke, if not for what actually occurred last night._

 _She'd been all over and upon him._ _ **Him**_ _, a Child of Lust. Yet, he didn't take advantage of her._

 _Her flush darkened, this time tinged with warmth and appreciation, anger still there but lulled. How_ _ **dare**_ _he make her hate him even less? If Sosuke stayed longer, only to carry on behaving this way...there'll be no part of him left to hate. ...He. Had. To. Leave. Effective immediately._

 _The world was still and quiet as neither looked away from each other or blinked, her magenta eyes accusing and annoyed at him, but his dark brown eyes anxious and affectionate over her._

 _...Affection?_

 _Cautiously peeking out a little more from the covers now shielding her dimming mortification, she regarded the other blankly, soft tone light with incredulity: "You stayed...with me."_

" _You asked me to," he answered gently, soothingly, yet remained seated where he was, politely giving her the space she evidently needed at the moment._

 _Doll's brow furrowed. Had she? ...She didn't remember that. Then again, she had been so out of it, she could have said anything. ...Another thing she didn't need to consider at the moment._

" _Would you have left if I hadn't asked?"_

 _His dark brown eyes lightened, turning softer as he uttered: "No. I would have stayed anyway."_

" _Because I was drunk?" she drawled out, the accusing air returning as her eyes narrowed, but this time it was not so aggressive, more like self-conscious._

' _Did you pity me, Sosuke?'_

" _Because you were hurt," corrected Aizen smoothly, regarding her knowingly with his features kept, careful to show only concern and gentleness, but not pity._

' _You loathe being felt sorry for, Naruka.'_

" _But_ _ **you**_ _fuckin' hurt me too, love," whispered Doll heatedly, before she bit her tongue hard when she saw the other's expression fall, turning to stone._

 _She quickly looked away before he managed to steel the lapse in his features, berating herself._

 _They were both equally aware as to where they currently stood, so she really didn't constantly have to remind him._

 _But she couldn't help it. It was at times like this that she hated herself more than she hated him._

" _Then I'll leave," he offered quietly, already heading for the door "There's water there by your side and some pills in case-"_

 _Magenta eyes screamed with silent angst as Doll called out hurriedly: "Don't. Stay, Sosuke."_

 _Stilling, Aizen blinked, before raising his eyebrows, head tilted with a teasing lilt to his tone: "Don't stay, Sosuke?"_

" _No, I mean- You fuckin'_ _ **know**_ _what I mean._ _ **Stay**_ _."_

" _Alright, alright. Am I a dog to you now? Should I bark?"_

 _Needless to say, with her furious blush retuning tenfold, she did not at all appreciate the joke._

" _Fuck off."_

 _Relieved to see her steadily getting herself beck together, the immortal chuckled at her hostility, knowing full well she didn't mean them, not at the moment at least: "So good to have you back."_

 _Doll eyed him blankly for a moment, wearing that inconveniently indecipherable expression of hers, before she glanced away, uttering distantly: "I still hate you, Sosuke."_

' _Little liar,' voiced Aizen's mind reprovingly, prior to immediately countering that allegation with vehemence 'Oh, do be quiet. You're in no way better, by not admitting what you feel.'_

 _Smiling delicately, the child of chaos dryly conceded to her lie: "_ _ **Of course**_ _you do, Naruka."_

Aizen reopened his eyes, sighing deeply. He was incapable of uttering aloud what he assuredly felt for her - it resembled love too much, and that could cost him dearly to admit, to give into - but he could easily declare this. Losing her, would be losing the greatest, the best part of himself.

With that, the child of chaos had finally mustered up enough daring to confront that man, in an attempt to protect Doll from the other's rancorous wrath, moving to the desk to call the man up.

The wait during dial had been nerve-racking, the ringing like an echo of impending doom. The immortal inhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down his nerves, just as the telephone on the other side picked up.

Aizen stilled as, at first, nothing could be heard but a strident, sizzling sound of static...but then he realized that it was actually the sound of raspy, wheezy breathing that _sounded_ like static...

" _Yes?"_

Composing himself, the immortal got ready to begin the parley, his voice smoothing itself with pleasantness and playfulness: "Good morning, Mr Wile."

" _Well, well. Dear Sosuke. What a true pleasure."_

000000000000000000000000000000000000

As Grimmjow recounted, Ichigo definitely learned a few things. And he was sincerely surprised by them, though he did have to wonder how knowing about them would help them in any way.

One of them was that the former Espada found out that the bracelets locked around their left wrists - the ones holding their 'tags' - also served to point out in which area they'd be used.

...Used sexually, of course.

It wasn't visible to them, but apparently the patrons, when approaching the dolls, had a digital-like card, which was swiped over the bracelet, revealing all the necessary details concerning a doll. That way, the patrons would stumble upon what fit their tastes and fantasies. Effortlessly.

In the blue-haired male's case, for instance, he was exclusively a seme when with the patrons and could be used to top both genders. With the dolls however, fucking became _very_ volatile...

...It _sincerely_ bothered the teenager how casual and at ease the feline was with _such_ vocabulary. What bothered him more, was the fact that _other_ people were going to lay their hands on them.

" _In that moment, as odd and spontaneous as it was, the teenager had decided there and then that he'd never feel comfortable under anyone's touch...other than Grimmjow's or Byakuya's."_

The teen found himself recalling that one stray thought and decided to cling on it like a lifeline. Even if there wasn't much he could do to prevent it all, he sure as hell wouldn't let it last long.

"What I don't get, is why haven't we tried escaping yet?" spoke up the Shinigami Substitute, waiting before interrupting the other, all while brown eyes distractedly glanced at his own bracelet, nervous about what _he_ would be "I mean, we've been left on our own more than once, no? ...Like now. The door isn't even locked, right?"

Before Grimmjow could even reply, another voice cut him to it: "It's rather _obvious_ , isn't it?"

Faintly startled, the teenager and the feline both glanced over to see Byakuya, arms crossed and clad lightly in a white bathrobe, standing by the bathroom's entrance, his stance unforthcoming.

They both stared at him wide-eyed, like he was some sort of apparition. They hadn't heard him come in, and apparently the dark-haired male had actually been here for a while. The carpet at the shinigami captain's feet was rather damp, with the extra water dripping from his pale skin.

The Kuchiki was scrutinizing them, his expression closed, his eyes, of a colder silver grey than ever, slowly dropping down to where the teen and the feline were now loosely holding hands.

For some reason that prompted Ichigo to retrieve it immediately and back away a little - during their chat, the teenager had also unconsciously inched a tad closer to Grimmow, leaning in, in order to catch every word as well as, for some reason, feeling rather comfortable when close to the other - under the impression he had done something offensive. At least, that _was_ what the noble's eyes appeared to be conveying.

The teen had been so distracted by their talk that he had forgotten about Byakuya. Completely.

True, he and Grimmjow had given the other some space, but now, Ichigo felt rather horrible for it. Because the noble seemed to be in an even _worse_ state than what he'd seen these past nights.

"No need to lock us in when they _know_ we cannot leave. And besides, _even_ we did eventually - by some _miracle_ \- manage to flee, how would it benefit us? We are _helpless_ with these shackles to our wrist - ones which we cannot take off ourselves - making us easy targets," highlighted the 6th Division's captain with seething calm, before pointing indignantly at his own silver bracelet and the imprisonment it represented "This things will _not_ let us leave these grounds. I _know_. Aizen has proven it. _Don't_ ask me how. It is _not_ a pleasant memory. Not only that, but we are largely, if not immensely, overpowered and outnumbered, notably without the Seireitei's aid. You really should at least _think_ a little before spouting absolute _nonsense_ , Kurosaki Ichigo."

"I don't like how you're implying that I'm an idiot," said the young male calmly with a scowl, not blaming the dark-haired male's rage and distress, but sincerely not wanting to be an outlet.

"I'm not implying it. I'm _stating_ it. Nuance."

Brow furrowed, Grimmjow stared, at loss for words. The tension between the other two males was _vivid_ , he could practically feel it prickling across his skin.

Ok. Fine, they weren't the _closest_ of individuals, but this was a whole other level of distancing. The Kuchiki noble honestly seemed to want nothing to want to do either of them, if his stance and set space was any indication. And yet, whereas Ichigo had previously been defensive, Byakuya was _completely_ on the offensive, even more enraged and on edge than ever. It didn't take a genius to see it. Despite the eerie dead calm the noble was displaying...he was _very_ upset.

The Shingami Substitute had been looking for a reason to explode, but the shinigami captain had _already_ exploded. It was like, the dark-haired male wanted to burn the whole world down. And the teen was somewhere between pacifying and firm, as if determined to prove the other that he had no reason to be burned along too.

"Fine, Byakuya. I'm an idiot. A guileless, naïve idiot. Happy?" conceded the young male with a sigh, not wanting to start a fight with the other, and yet unthinkingly muttered under his breath "If I was any different, Rukia would be long dead by now."

Only, unfortunately, the 6th Division's captain heard him.

If the Kuchiki noble had been angry afore, at the teenager's words, he became downright livid, his features growing dimmer, his lips thinning and his narrowed eyes glaring with a lethal blaze.

"Don't. You. _Dare_ ," seethed Byakuya quietly in a low, lethal hiss "You should've _never_ gotten yourself involved with us Shinigami in the first place, do you hear, Kurosaki Ichigo? NEVER."

Ichigo's breath hitched aloud, the protective walls hoisted around himself cracking and giving away a little.

...Ouch. Now _that_ stung.

Especially since, Byakuya had _told_ him to stay away, Orihime had _tried_ to keep him away, Grimmjow had _pleaded_ with him to not get involved... Yeah, he _really_ didn't need a reminder.

Despite the young male being hasty to school his expression again, Grimmjow had not missed the flash of hurt and guilt crossing the teen's features, so the feline decided to step in, his tone commanding, inflexible as he spoke to the noble: "Enough. That has bloody _nothing_ to do with this. _Stop_ taking out your fuckin' frustrations on Kurosaki. _Now_. I fuckin' mean it, pretty boy."

Without looking in Grimmjow's direction, a perfect dark eyebrow arched defiantly, showing he had heard every word, as he countered cuttingly, coldly: "Do I _look_ frustrated? Belay that, I. Am. _Livid_. And I- Did you just _threaten_ me?"

Upon realizing that bit, the 6th Division's captain was thrown off for a moment, eyes widened. Stiffening, aghast trepidation crossed his features, scarring memories flashing forward, before the noble hastily pushed them away, resentful and restless anger once again returning to him.

"And if I _don't_ stop, you'll do _what_ , exactly? What could _you_ possibly do _to me_? Surely nothing worse than what you've _already_ d-" Byakuya abruptly trailed off, his voice failing him for a moment, grey eyes widening as he realized what he had been about to thoughtlessly utter. The noble couldn't say _that_. He had _hated_ that time in Las Noches, but he couldn't _accuse_ the feline.

Silver grey agitatedly darted over to tamed, tranquil blue ones, and then vehemence came back tenfold to Byakuya, his emotions an uncontrollable wreck, a mess: "Do you not realize what Aizen Sosuke is making us to be?! Making _me_ to be?! You don't even _realize_ what it is like-"

Grimmjow swiftly got up and walked over to the noble with such speed, that in but a few strides, he had reached Byakuya, and the latter, startled by the suddenness of it, backed away in alarm, but his back collided fast with the wall behind him, the feline now looming grandly over him.

"Grimmjow!" yelled Ichigo as he shot up in panic, worried that the former Arrancar had lost his cool and was about to hit the 6th Division's captain or something.

The dark-haired male manifestly seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he was stiff and on his guard, with his face pale as a sheet, his breath erratic, shaky. No matter how much he rationalized it, Byakuya _hadn't_ gotten over what had happened back in Las Noches.

But, the feline didn't lay a finger on the noble. He too, however, had lost his calm, eyes flaring.

"You know nothing, noble blood. _Nothing_ ," snarled the blue-haired male, thrusting his face into the petrified Kuchiki's personal breathing space "You think you fuckin' know it all, simply because you were fuckin' used to a life where everyone was beneath _you_. And now that _you're_ beneath others, you can't fuckin' stand it - despite this just being the fuckin' beginning for you. Think of what others have to fuckin' say after enduring something like this for a lifetime or longer. It's not just about _you_ , pretty boy. Stop fuckin' acting like the _only_ victim in the room."

A silence imposed itself, blue eyes never leaving grey, the former Espada let those words sink in, with the Kuchiki stunned still by the blow they caused. Even the teen was affected by them.

With his point made, the feline pulled away, throwing an apologetic glance at the shaken noble, before his eyes hardened in cautionary warning: "Now, fuckin' _leave_ the kid alone. _Nothing_ happening to us is his fuckin' fault."

Regardless of the fact that he had just been chastised in such a manner, Byakuya was speechless. But for something quite different. He _had_ noticed that the former Arrancar valued the Shinigami Substitute, but this, this right now, was a lot _more_ than that. And the noble fleetingly, curiously wondered if the feline himself realized this. ...How truly odd for a being that was once Hollow.

Nevertheless, there was not a flaw in the blue-haired male's words. He was right. _Terribly_ right.

Feeling a whole other version of shame than the one he had been coerced to endure, the Kuchiki lowered his head, just as reproachful towards himself as the feline had been, if not a tad more.

Byakuya felt stifled, oppressed, his heart, mind and soul - predominantly fuelled by anger, fear and loathing, both at others and himself - were all warring a violent but futile battle he couldn't escape from, clawing at him from the inside, ripping him to shreds, shards he was having trouble holding on to.

He just couldn't get any of the vivid, fresh images of these passed nights' events out of his head no matter how he tried, the Twilights' touches - whether mockingly gentle or purposely cruel - stapling horrific moments deep within his mind, overlapping and intertwining with other vile, abusive memories he had been through before and since the immortal broke free from Muken **(7)**.

Unable to help it, Byakuya was losing it, losing every bit of himself. ...He was losing _himself_. At times, he could barely remember why he was here in the first place, in between forgetting and forsaking bits and pieces of who he once was. At times, he couldn't even admit that he was the Kuchiki Clan's leader. ...A Clan's leader? ...Of the great, grand Kuchiki name? Reduced to _this_? A world, a nightmare of pain, pathos and pressured pleasure? And probably even worse yet? Unthinkable. Impossible. ... _Unforgivable_.

Aizen - and now the Twilights - had a way of acting on his nerves, making a total disarray of him. His emotions were on edge, his usual impeccable control over them slipping. Dangerously.

Grimmjow was correct, however. It wasn't an enough excuse. It wasn't Ichigo's fault. At all.

"No. No, it isn't," whispered Byakuya aloud, quietly agreeing with the feline, before tentatively looking over at the other two males, gaze penitent "My apologies, Kurosaki Ichigo. And to you, Arra- No. _Jeagerjaques_."

They both nodded but before either could speak, the Kuchiki hastily added, directly addressing the teenager, his dimmed, drained grey eyes so expressive, almost pleading: "It's just... I hate that - _really_ hate - you had to see me...that anyone had to me like _that_..."

The noble's hectic, overwrought mind hissed at him, vindictively filling in the rest of sentence: _'Pathetic. Powerless.'_

But Byakuya didn't _dare_ utter those two words aloud.

"I'd _never_ think _badly_ of you, Kuchiki-taichou."

Byakuya stiffened, staring at the half-smiling teenager with wide stunned eyes. Ichigo had but _once_ called him by his family name. Even less by his title within the Gotei 13. Meaning _never_.

Staggered, the 6th Division's captain inquired slowly, softly: "Why are you always like this? Always so...forgiving? So unselfish?"

"Because I care," declared the teenager easily with startling honesty...that made the noble want to groan, but he managed to hold it back at the last minute, settling for a roll of his eyes instead.

Once again, he was in the midst of a situation where he felt like a total stranger, like an alien. Byakuya was used to admiration from others, but affection from them, from outsiders, was odd.

The noble knew well that the teen cared. He simply never considered that he cared _this_ much...

"But _why_? We were never...close," trailed off the dark-haired male with a frown, the unfamiliar words heavy on his tongue and leaving a stinging feeling on his lips. But not an unpleasant one.

"But we are _now_. And will be, from here on out," pointed out Ichigo, brown eyes faintly forlorn as he looked away "We - You guys are all I have. And I don't want to lose either of you too."

"I- Kurosaki Ichigo, I- I am flattered, truly."

"I don't think I've ever fuckin' heard you stutter, pretty boy."

"Do be quiet," muttered the faintly embarrassed dark-haired male, glaring at the smirking feline, before his smirk broadened further upon seeing that the noble's glare was merely half-hearted.

A couple of moments later, the three of them were all seated on the couch together, exchanging back and forth between what they had learnt and should do from here on out, though the former Arrancar did most of the talking, both in explaining and in advising. The other were not totally comfortable with certain aspects of the discussion, but they did set aside that unease to focus on the matter at hand.

Grimmjow recalled that, just a while ago, the mere mention of sexual endeavours made the two squirmy and skittish. The teenager and the noble had changed, and the blue-haired feline wasn't too sure if that was a good or bad thing...or maybe a bit of both.

"Listen, I do understand that Aizen Sosuke holds us each in resentment of some sort, but is this truly necessary? Doing _this_ to us? Out of all the possible torments he could have unleashed?"

Though, the Kuchiki honestly seemed to be more outraged than rattled by what was happening.

"To be honest, there isn't fuckin' worse," stated the former Espada bitterly, shaking his head, his eyes gleaming hatefully "Aizen always uses manipulation to meet his ends. When that fails, extortion and violation follow closely behind. Keep in mind that he's a Child of bloody Chaos. What else is there to fuckin' expect?"

At that, the noble raised a dark eyebrow incredulously: "Is _that_ supposed to justify his deeds? Simply because he is chaos in name, means that chaos he can freely inflict? As simple as that?"

"If you fuckin' _knew_ what that title _actually_ meant, you wouldn't be asking, Kuchiki," retorted Grimmjow wearily, before he stilled, just realizing the other _really_ didn't know what it meant.

Faint curiosity, as well as frustration, lit the shinigami captain's eyes: "Then explain. Since you seemingly know _so_ much."

The former Espada grimaced. Damn it. This was _not_ going to be simple.

"I... _can't_."

Silver grey eyes widened a fraction at first, before they narrowed menacingly: "Why ever _not_?"

"He- Aizen found out that I had told everyone else back when we were all held fuckin' captive in the Seireitei after the Other War. Everyone now knows what I know, all of them expect you and the other Kuchiki locked with you," related the feline, eyes dimming as he seemed to be far away, recalling something "Aizen...went livid, for lack of another word. And then, did _this_."

As the blue-haired male then opened his mouth wide and smoothly stuck out his tongue, both Byakuya and Ichigo stared with a faint amount of increasing horror.

There was a dark mark etched upon the feline's appendage. At first glance, the tongue looked burnt black, in an odd manner. But then, the two males could make out what appeared to be an upside-down letter ' _A_ ' ensnared in the thorny vines of a single rose...a symbol which looked _exactly_ like the ethereal birthmark Hinamori Aizen had showed off to everyone back during the Other War **(8)**. A mark shaped threateningly and standing exclusively for the Children of Lust.

"The Aizens' seal," uttered Grimjow darkly, distantly, after he had drawn his tongue back in, his words confirming what the other two had unfortunately guessed "It can have...many knacks. In my case though, it fuckin' prevents me from ever revealing any of his secrets, ever again."

While Byakuya was outright horrified, Ichigo shuddered, aghast.

... _Chilling_. No one could get more possessive and tyrannical than _that_.

"How dreadfully convenient," muttered the Kuchiki noble bitterly, before he raised an eyebrow "Is there any way to counter it? Could you not write it down?"

" _Nothing_ will work. Just _thinking_ about it is giving me a _**real**_ fuckin' headache. If I try to _talk_ about it, no words will come out. Try to write it out, I'll be fuckin' paralyzed, 'til I give it up."

Now, Byakuya was utterly speechless, whereas Ichigo froze. He had once jokingly said that the immortal was a control freak. He had no clue as to how _accurate_ that blithe-made statement was.

"Why go _so_ far?"

"Don't you get it?" snapped the former Espada, throwing the Shinigami Substitute a subtle, yet significant look while jabbing his thumb in the Kuchiki noble's direction "Aizen doesn't bloody _want_ **him** to fuckin' figure things out."

"...Such is my misfortune. _Recurrently_ being kept in the dark," sighed the 6th Division's captain drearily, a hand to his forehead while sounding dreadfully dramatic...without meaning to. Much.

Catching the former Arrancar's hint, the teenager hesitated a moment, thinking it through, before somewhat agreeing with the other, so Ichigo spoke up flippantly: "Isn't, just sometimes, ignorance supposed to be bliss?"

Annoyed grey eyes slowly flickered towards the young male, the noble's tone firm, chastising: "This _no_ laughable matter."

"...I was just trying to lighten the mood, jeez," muttered the teen with a scowl, glancing away, with the shinigami captain raising his eyebrows faintly, whereas the feline, however, felt a tad relieved. As well as a little guilty. But this was a truth that would not do the noble any good...yet would be an extreme advantage for the immortal's benefit. ...A cruel if not necessary sacrifice.

Hence, in truth, lightening the mood wasn't the _only_ thing the young male was trying to do. Ichigo was one of those present when Grimmjow had revealed what the Children of Chaos stood for, and though the teenager was still unclear on the matter, he honestly didn't know how to breach the news for Byakuya. It was just way too...delicate a matter to breach upon.

Besides, given how shocked _Yoruichi_ had been **(9)** , the teen was pretty sure the Kuchiki would be just as horrified, if not more. Would the noble even believe it, accept it? Most certainly not.

The Shinigami Substitute didn't get to dwell longer on the matter, for the former Arrancar spoke up again, tone inquiring, cautious: "So, where _have_ you two been these past nights? I tried to get to you, but nobody would fuckin' let me. Nor tell me anything."

Grimmjow knew he shouldn't ask. But he _had to_ know. Had to ease that terrible, terrible feeling which was gnawing at him, from somewhere deep within him, driving him wild with worry.

The other two males' very first reaction was to still completely, their eyes wide as they glanced hesitantly, anxiously at each other, neither Ichigo nor Byakuya willing to share their nightmare.

Fair enough. Grimmjow was hiding things too, after all.

The feline was about to courteously let it go, the Kuchiki noble spoke up, his words _very_ vague.

"We were with- with the Twilights. On Aizen's orders," said the 6th Division's captain, unable to keep his speech fluent despite his calm tone, which entirely betrayed the way he actually felt "They...'taught' us how to...how to conduct ourselves. For later on. ...When with the patrons."

The former Arrancar blinked. That could literally mean _anything_.

...How entirely reassuring. He probably was better off not knowing. Curse him and his curiosity.

"Which I still don't get, by the way," mumbled the young male, trying to look blasé about the matter at hand, but the feline didn't miss the tremor in the teenager's hands " _You_ know about this...stuff, Grimmjow, right? Why not have _you_ teach us?"

The former Espada froze, unsure how to feel about that question. On one hand, he was definitely disturbed by the idea of others touching either of the two males seated beside him. Yet on the other hand, if _he_ 'd been the one to do the 'training', it may have eventually gotten too emotional. Dangerous.

Rather than answer, the former Espada obstinately held onto the subject that troubled him more, but the noble was swift cut him off before he could ask again, seeing right through the feline and understanding the worry, but utterly unable to bear the thought of reliving these past nights.

The scarring, dark memories of them etched deep within, were more than enough to deal with.

" _I beg you_ , don't," whispered the Kuchiki urgently, in a shaky voice that was half-commanding, half-beseeching, his eyes drowning in shame "Don't ask what they did to us. ... _Please_ , don't."

Mutely adjudging at first, the feline eventually nodded, much the dark-haired male's relief. But in Grimmjow's case, he now felt worse than before, swiftly glancing away, eyes narrowed, a glint of fury and vengeance instilling themselves within the burning blue.

...He'd have to do something about this, find a way to get back at them - Aizen and Twilights - for, though doing it on the immortal's orders, harming Ichigo and Byakuya so badly that neither were capable of talking about it.

As the feline plotted and the teenager himself furrowed his brow over his own reflections, the noble's thoughts too were silently along a dark path.

Byakuya had just made a miserable attempt at cleaning off the feel of vilifying humiliation. He genuinely didn't want to remember. But his mind wasn't listening to him. It was slowly letting those dark, horrid memories seep back forward, devastating and sullying him all over again. However, he didn't dare give in, desperately holding himself together. Because he wasn't alone. Under no circumstances whatsoever, would he crack down in front of them. That'd destroy him.

So, instead, the noble delicately hid his face within his hands, letting out a soft, strained sigh: "This can't be real. This _has_ to be a nightmare."

Upon witnessing the dark-haired male steadily becoming one with depression, the young male felt like he had to say something, so he tentatively raised his voice, just a tad above a whisper: "It could be worse, you know."

Lowering his hands brusquely, the Kuchiki honestly couldn't stop the glare flaring up his eyes: "Worse than _this_? Define it then."

"O-Oh. ...Ok. Well, first, if you had just conformed to what the Twilights wanted right from the start, they wouldn't have done worse to you. Second-"

" _Excuse me_? How can you put it in such a manner? As if what happened is somehow _my_ fault?!"

"That's _not_ what I said," placated Ichigo patiently, gently eyeing the other with consideration "I'm saying that you - and I, and even Grimmjow, I'm guessing - swore oaths to Aizen. We swore that we'd give ourselves up to him. So, we _have to_ give ourselves up. _Completely_."

"I'd rather hold on to whatever ounce of dignity I have left," stated the Kuchiki noble rigidly, grasping the lucidness and logic in the teenager's words, but failing to accept them. He simply couldn't bring himself to do _exactly_ as Aizen Sosuke pleased. _No way_ he could. His pride and ego had been bruised enough, and he genuinely didn't think he could handle more than that.

"There's nothing bloody dignified about being fucked. Just fuckin' saying," uttered Grimmjow blandly with a shrug, his cutting, blunt truth causing Byakuya's jaw to drop with aghast horror.

" _Don't_ you _dare_ -"

" _Second_ , it might have _not_ been any of us," spoke up the Shinigami Substitute gravely, carrying on from where he had been cut off, his words obtaining the Kuchiki's entire attention "When we swore those oaths, it was with the intention to protect, wasn't it? What we're going through, it's... It's horrifying, terrifying, hateful, tortuous, anything and everything you want to name it. But we can't turn back now, can we?"

...Since when had the young male become a voice of reason? Had he always been this mature?

"No, we can't. Better us than them, indeed," stated Byakuya, this time fully agreeing with the teen, despite the nagging concern at the back of his mind which he then found himself voicing "Only, does that truly mean we are to lie down and let them all have their way with us? Waste away here and become unreservedly rotted? You _do_ understand what is coming, don't you? How this will carry on for us in time, if nothing's done?"

"I know, but it doesn't matter," stated Ichigo with a shake of his head, before he asserted sturdily "Because we're getting out of here."

To say the other two were stunned was an understatement. They were completely blown away, flabbergasted and staring at the third male as though he had lost his mind, the noble more so then the feline though.

" _How_?" they both asked simultaneously, their disbelief and shock making the teen smile a bit.

"I don't know," replied the teenager with that genuine and alarming honesty of his, yet quite steadfast and resolute about his declaration "But we _will_. I'll figure something out, I promise."

Staring at the teen, Byakuya blinked mutely, incredulous.

But, oddly enough, he believed him. The young male _had_ made the impossible happen before. A boy of miracles, an actual feat he and many others have been a witness to, but would keep from admitting aloud. It wouldn't hurt to believe in him for this too...right? Or was it too much to put all their hopes in a child?

Sighing quietly, the shinigami captain closed his eyes, for once purposefully immersing himself in the darkness that was steadily becoming his life...and Byakuya knew, he wouldn't be able to keep it up forever.

Therefore, it was pretty clear to him that, between this pathological pornographic prison and a possibility at strenuous freedom, no matter how thin or risky, he'd take that gamble.

Grey eyes opened again and flickered over to the determination alit within those brown eyes...

"I'll hold you onto that promise, Kurosaki Ichigo. Get us out of here," declared the noble firmly, to which the teen solemnly nodded, whereas Byakuya's mind unhelpfully hissed again curtly _'_ _Before we become too far gone to leave.'_

 _I won't take this world's abuse_

 _I won't give up, I refuse_

 _This is how it feels when you're bent and broken_

 _This is how it feels when your dignity's stolen_

 _When everything you love is leaving_

 _You hold on to what you believe in_

 _ **(Not Gonna Die, by Skillet)**_

 **To be continued...**

 **Next Update:** _Immoral and Amoral (Chapter 3)_

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 **(1)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 8: _Fate for Spoils_.

 **(2)** Yep, so metaphor here. The scent of burning roses means something. Care to figure it out?

 **(3)** Ok, so 'Naruka' is Aizen's affectionate pet name for Doll. And 'Gamine' (which is French for ' _Girlie_ ' or ' _Little Girl_ ') is how anyone else, that isn't a member of _Débauche_ , addresses her as. But _**neither**_ are her real name. Still not revealing who Doll really is yet. If, however, you've guessed it by now, that's really great! I only ask that you don't accidently reveal it to those who don't know yet. Suspense...

 **(4)** As in neither Ichigo nor Byakuya have endured sexual intercourse under either of the three Twilights for those four nights, given that they used sex toys for any moments of penetration.

 **(5)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 9: _Taking It In_ , Scene 1.

 **(6)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 5: _Unexpected Treachery Amidst (Part 1)_ , Scene 2.

 **(7)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 5: _Unexpected Treachery Amidst (Part 2)_ , Scene 6.

 **(8)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 5: _Countdown to Chaos (Part 2)_ , Scene 9 **(Six)**.

 **(9)** See Part 1 of _the Fallen Series_ , Chapter 7: _And They Fall,_ Scene 5.

* * *

A/N: Whoa, that _was_ unbelievably long... Believe me, this chapter was _**extremely**_ hard to write. Ok, ladies, gents and everyone else, so the following update will be on **January 1** **st** , give or take. I _will_ update earlier than that **if** next chapter's finished earlier than planned. I'm going to _try_ to go back to how I used to update before, one or two updates every two months. Please do wish me luck on that, everyone.

Also, I'll reply to all and any reviews and PMs you may have up until then, so don't be shy.

Anyways, thank so much for reading the madness I write. See you next update! Bye for now!


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